Museums matter — now more than ever

»My predecessor was here for 25 years, and I plan on sticking around for a while too.«

It’s lunchtime at the Medical Museion, and the new kid on the block, Abdi Hedayat, is using the break to introduce himself to his new colleagues.

There is a distinct smell of lunch in the room — is it liver pâté with pickled beetroot? — as he clicks through a presentation stacked with images. Now he dissects a polar bear, here he handles a whale, then he conserves a tiger. It’s all delivered with dark humour and wild anecdotes from a working life far from the mundane.

And it all leads to where Abdi Hedayat now stands, as the new head of collections and conservation at Medical Museion.

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After more than two decades conserving animals at the Natural History Museum of Denmark, it was time for something new for Abdi Hedayat:

»I’ve conserved the whales I needed to, and I don’t really miss it.«

He changed direction in 2024 and swapped the animals for human-made objects and mechanics at the Danish Museum of Science and Technology in Helsingør:

»It was pretty nerve-racking to start from scratch, but it was an incredibly educational process. I broadened my horizons, and it was good for me to dive into something completely different, meet new people, and understand a new collection,« he says.

But when the position as head of collections and conservation at Medical Museion became vacant, he knew he had to apply. The museum, located in the historic Royal Academy of Surgery, holds both medical curiosities and narratives about the history of the human body.

A conservator tries to preserve something that nature is constantly trying to break down

Abdi Hedayat

The position has only been vacant twice in the past 50 years, and Abdi Hedayat’s predecessor Ion Meyer held it for 25 of them. Although Hedayat enjoyed his job at the Danish Museum of Science and Technology, he felt he had to give this a shot.

»I wasn’t the only one who applied. And now I’ve been lucky enough to get it. So I also feel I owe it to the other applicants to do a good job. That thought can be a bit nerve-wracking.«

He naturally brings with him the experience from his previous positions, and he says he intends to build on all the work his predecessors have done.

»Some of my colleagues have been here for decades. They know the place inside out, and Ion Meyer spent years organising the collections. So I have no plans to turn it all upside down.«

Jolt of curiosity

Abdi Hedayat doesn’t plan any major changes, but he hopes to contribute to the museum’s outreach. Even though he’s done with animal conservation himself, he dreams of the museum showing animal dissections — something he introduced successfully at the Natural History Museum of Denmark.

For Abdi Hedayat, dissection isn’t just about cutting animals open — it’s about understanding what it means to be human:

»You might examine a wolf’s hind leg and wonder why it doesn’t look like mine, and what its function is. In that way, you learn to understand development and evolution. And this place is perfect for that,« he says.

Despite earlier debates about whether children should even witness dissections of animals, Abdi Hedayat strongly believes it’s an important learning tool — one he learned a lot from as a child. He wants to pass that insight on to future generations:

»I’m sure that some of the children who’ve seen a dissection had a small spark lit inside them, and maybe one day they’ll return as conservators, biologists or something entirely different. There’s hardly a greater gift than being allowed to be an inspiration.«

According to Abdi Hedayat, it’s not really the children who need to overcome this barrier. In his experience, children are curious and engaged, while it’s often the adults who get squeamish at the sight of dead animals. That’s why communication is key when dissections are presented publicly. If you can turn the experience from something horrifying and disgusting into something exciting and educational, then it’s been a success.

And for him, it’s not just about biology. It’s about how we, as a society, create and share knowledge:

»I believe the path to a more democratic society goes through knowledge. One way of generating new knowledge is to look inside a body, study blood vessels, bones, and examine the musculature to understand how everything fits together.«

Difficult decisions

Abdi Hedayat is passionate about museum work. He has now worked at three different museums with different purposes, and he continues in the museum world because he believes museums are among the most important institutions in society.

»Museum collections are a hassle. They take up an incredible amount of space. It would be much easier to photograph the objects and throw them out afterwards. But that would be like scanning the front and back cover of a book and then discarding its actual content. We need to keep the collections. Fundamentally, we simply cannot afford not to have museums.«

But working in conservation — and especially as head of conservation — is not without its dilemmas. What are the optimal preservation conditions? Should the objects be put on display for the public, or kept in a secure room so they can last longer?

It’s not a dusty archive behind locked doors, but dynamic collections with active objects that matter to all of us

Abdi Hedayat

»I have many years of experience to draw on, and now I’m in a leadership position where it’s up to me to make the tough decisions,« says Abdi Hedayat.

He is, for example, responsible for deciding whether a sample should be taken from an object — something that might ultimately damage it. It could lead to a new scientific discovery or result in a ruined museum artefact that will no longer exist for the future.

»It’s a huge responsibility because these objects belong to the community. That’s something I try to keep in mind. They’re not my things. They’re ours.«

According to Abdi Hedayat, conservation is a paradox in itself: A conservator tries to preserve something that nature is constantly trying to break down. At the same time, the objects are meant to be used for research, education, and exhibition. And that wears them down.

»The balance is somewhere in between, in choosing to destroy our objects in a meaningful way.«

A glimpse behind the scenes

One of the things that fascinates Abdi Hedayat the most about working at Medical Museion is the history the place carries within it:

»It’s absolutely amazing that the exhibition is located in the very building where the surgical academy was founded.«

His fascination with knowledge-sharing, the museum’s history, and the view of objects as shared heritage means he wants to open the doors even wider to the public. The museum has already tested formats where visitors are allowed to touch and examine real museum objects.

And Abdi Hedayat dreams of inviting the public all the way behind the scenes, into the collections:

»I hope it can elevate the collections, so people realise that it’s not a dusty archive behind locked doors, but dynamic collections with active objects that matter to all of us.«

Abdi Hedayat’s mission is to leave people with a new perspective on humanity, nature and culture. And right here, he believes Medical Museion’s exhibitions can offer something special: When you put the human body on display, it changes the way we see ourselves:

»Human beings aren’t glorified here, as if you were going in to see some saint’s relic. In the end, we are just like every other creature in nature. Our muscles are made of the same type of cells as a whale’s or a crocodile’s. It brings humans down to earth when you see yourself displayed in formaldehyde.«

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Even though Abdi Hedayat has only just begun as head of collections and conservation, he already seems at home. During the presentation there’s lively back-and-forth with colleagues, and afterwards there’s chatting, idea-sharing, and big thinking:

»A museum isn’t just a place where we store the past — it’s a place that holds the key to understanding ourselves. And that’s the insight my colleagues and I hope to pass on.«