Hans Ulrich Obrist doesn’t sleep much. Maybe that's the secret. If you’ve ever seen him at an art fair, he’s a blur of energy, clutching a Leica or a notebook, perpetually in the middle of a "marathon" interview. He’s the artistic director of the Serpentine Galleries in London, but honestly, he’s more like a global switchboard for ideas. When he published Ways of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist back in 2014, people expected a dry textbook on how to hang pictures on a white wall.
They got something else entirely.
This isn't a manual about spirit levels or lighting rigs. It's a manifesto on how to live an intellectual life. It's about the "protest against forgetting." If you’re trying to make sense of the mess of information we deal with every day, this book is basically a survival guide disguised as art theory.
The Kitchen Show and the Death of the Museum
Obrist started in a kitchen. Literally.
His first exhibition, the "World Soup" show (1991), took place in his tiny apartment kitchen in St. Gallen, Switzerland. He invited artists like Christian Boltanski and Hans-Peter Feldmann to put work among the spices and the stove. It was weird. It was cramped. It was brilliant.
Most people think curating means being a gatekeeper in a suit. Obrist argues it’s about interlowering—a term he borrows to describe making connections where none existed. In Ways of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist, he traces this back to the root of the word, curare, which means "to take care of." For him, a curator isn't just an organizer; they’re a caregiver for culture. He looks at figures like Alexander Dorner, who ran the Landesmuseum in Hanover in the 1920s and treated the museum like a "living powerhouse" rather than a cemetery for dead objects.
Why We Should All Be Curating Our Lives
We live in a world of "more." More content, more tabs, more noise.
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Obrist talks a lot about the idea of the "junction." A curator’s job is to create a junction where different paths meet. You’ve probably done this without realizing it. When you organize a bookshelf, or even a Spotify playlist, you're curating. But Obrist wants us to go deeper. He’s obsessed with the "unbuilt"—the projects that never happened, the ideas that were too big or too strange for the mainstream.
One of the most moving parts of the book is his obsession with the "marathon." He holds 24-hour interview sessions because he believes that after the twelfth hour, people stop giving canned, PR-friendly answers. They get tired. They get honest. That’s where the real curation happens. It’s about finding the "urgent" questions.
He mentions the legendary curator Lucy Lippard, who basically invented the idea that an exhibition could be a stack of index cards. It didn't need a building. It just needed an idea. This shift—from objects to ideas—is the core of why Ways of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist feels so relevant in the digital age. We don't need more stuff. We need better ways to connect the stuff we already have.
The Problem With the "Best Of" Mentality
Google and Instagram curate for us now. Algorithms are the new curators.
But Obrist argues that real curation requires a human "no." It requires friction. An algorithm gives you what you already like. A real curator gives you what you didn't know you needed. In the book, he reflects on his time with the eccentric Alighiero Boetti, an artist who taught him that "everything is already there." The curator’s job isn’t to create something out of nothing, but to point at something and say, "Look at this. This matters."
It’s kinda like being a DJ. You don’t write the songs, but the way you transition from a 1970s funk track to a 2026 synth-pop beat creates a whole new meaning. That transition? That's the curation.
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Making the Invisible Visible
If you’re looking for a step-by-step guide on how to get a job at the MoMA, you’re going to be disappointed. This book is a history of conversations. Obrist is a "conversation addict." He’s interviewed thousands of people—architects, scientists, painters, poets.
He writes about the "Cabinet of Curiosities" or Wunderkammer. Before modern museums existed, people just crammed weird stuff into rooms: narwhal tusks, clockwork toys, dried crocodiles. It was chaotic. But it reflected a hungry, curious mind. Obrist wants us to reclaim that chaos. He suggests that the most interesting things happen in the gaps between disciplines.
He talks about the "Hotel Carlton Palace" exhibition he did in a hotel room in Paris. He had to convince the hotel staff to let him hang art in a room where people were actually sleeping. It was a nightmare to organize, but it broke the "white cube" spell. It made the art part of life again.
The Ethics of Selection
There is a dark side to curating, though. Selection is also exclusion.
Obrist is acutely aware that for every artist he puts in a biennial, a thousand others are left out. He addresses this by focusing on "the protest against forgetting." He spends a huge chunk of his time interviewing elderly artists who have been overlooked by history. He’s trying to map the "missing links" of the 20th century.
Curating, in this sense, is an act of memory. It’s about keeping stories alive that the market wants to bury because they aren't "profitable" or "trendy." It's a heavy responsibility. You're basically deciding what the future gets to remember about the past.
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How to Apply Obrist’s Philosophy Today
Honestly, you don't need a gallery. You just need a "site."
Maybe your site is a newsletter. Maybe it’s your dinner table. The principles in Ways of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist are surprisingly practical if you stop thinking about "High Art" with a capital A.
First, look for the "Missing Archive." What’s not being talked about in your field? Who are the people everyone has forgotten? Start there. Second, embrace the "Unbuilt." What are the projects you've always wanted to do but were too scared to start? Write them down. Catalog them. Sometimes the plan is more important than the execution.
Finally, think about the "Bridge." Curating is about bringing two people together who would never normally meet. An astrophysicist and a dancer. A plumber and a philosopher. When those worlds collide, that’s where the sparks are.
Actionable Insights for the Modern Curator
- Start with the "Why," not the "Where." Don't wait for a venue. Use your kitchen, your Instagram, or a public park. The space should fit the idea, not the other way around.
- Practice Active Listening. Obrist’s "marathons" prove that the best curation comes from asking questions, not giving orders.
- Create Friction. Don't just group things that "match." Group things that argue with each other. That’s where the energy is.
- Keep a "Project of Projects." Document your failed ideas. They are often more revealing than your successes.
- Be a Caretaker. Remember the root curare. If you aren't taking care of the work and the person who made it, you aren't curating—you're just decorating.
The biggest takeaway from Ways of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist is that the world is an infinite series of connections waiting to be made. It’s a book that makes you want to go out and do something. It’s a reminder that we are all, in some way, responsible for the culture we inhabit. We shouldn't just consume it; we should be actively shaping it, one small kitchen show at a time.
Next Steps for Deepening Your Practice:
- Conduct a "Personal Marathon": Set a timer for 60 minutes and write down every "unbuilt" project idea you've had in the last five years. Don't censor them.
- Identify Your "Missing Archive": Find one artist, writer, or thinker from the last 50 years who has no digital footprint and research them.
- Map Your Junctions: Draw a diagram of your current interests. Find the point where the two most unrelated topics intersect. That is your next project.