Rock & Roll Hall of Fame VP of Curatorial Operations Shelby Morrison knew the museum—plagued by ongoing complaints of sexism, racism and other bias—was turning a corner when first Garbage’s Shirley Manson, then Suzanne Vega and Lisa Loeb agreed to be part of the opening events surrounding the “Revolutionary Women in Music: Left of Center” exhibit. Then 2021 inductee Jane Wiedlin, guitarist-songwriter for The Go-Go’s, said she’d fly in from Hawaii to mark the show celebrating the punks, rude girls, truth-tellers, riot grrrls and iconoclastic women who’ve broken ground and made an indelible mark on contemporary music since Poly Styrene, Alice Bag and Siouxsie Sioux, plus Patti Smith, Talking Heads’ Tina Weymouth and The Runaways created space for women cutting across the grain of expectation.

For Morrison, who put herself through college as a bartender on roller skates before becoming a curator at the Buddy Holly Center in Lubbock, Texas, it was enlisting acclaimed blues-funk guitarist Malina Moye that made opening “Revolutionary Women” less than a year after being named the head of curatorial so special. Raised in Texas, where guitar-slinging is a high art, Moye represents everything Morrison’s exhibition intended to celebrate—“a strong woman taking space men had dominated with strength, real musicianship and a definite sense of who she was as a proud Black woman.”

Opening on International Women’s Day, the Rock Hall’s dominant exhibit space now sees “Hip Hop at 50: Holla If Ya Hear Me” partnered with a groundbreaking look at often unheralded women who’ve represented generations of females of all ages. “As my mentor says, ‘My feminism is we, not me,’” Morrison said in her welcoming notes at an event for their female board members, suggesting it’s as much about community created as it is the individuals being celebrated.

Less than a year. You work fast.

In July 2023, Sinead O’Connor passes away, and it sparked a lot of conversation. (Director of Curatorial Affairs) Amanda (Pecsenye) and I started talking about women who’d really changed the way music evolved, who’d made a difference—and all the different paths they’d taken.

A lot had happened since “Women Who Rock” in 2010, which really looked at the whole space of women in music. It had taken seven years to get the “yes” for that exhibit; with [museum President and CEO] Greg Harris, it took seven seconds to get the “yes” for this one.

That’s a big change.

Since 2010, we’ve spent so much integrating women and people of color into everything. Before that our exhibits were pretty white, and very male. Now you get Susan Tedeschi’s guitar next to Eric Clapton’s—that was important to us over the last dozen years, to show women in all these spaces.

And the artists’ response?

Sleater-Kinney, Liz Phair, Kathleen Hanna, they’ve all been very positive. Any woman who’s visited here, they’ve all expressed to myself and the staff, “We know you’re changing things. How can we help you?”

We were 75% done with the script, and Kathleen Hanna said she’d be happy to look at it. She sent it back to us with notes, really encouraging us to dig even deeper, to include people like Alice Bag and Nina Simone. That helped us create a matriarch for each group: Kathleen for the riot grrrls, Patti Smith for punks, Pauline Black from The Selecter for rude girls and Sinead for truth-tellers.

And we already had the majority of the artifacts in our collection. Some had never been seen. But with this exhibit, we’re not only showing the world all these iconic pieces, we’re giving a context for how powerful women’s collective impact has been. We picked the pieces that had the most relevancy and power. Destiny’s Child, for example, we chose their outfits from the “Independent Women” video.

Moye, Manson, Loeb and Wiedlin at the exhibit opening

There’s a lot of subtext to the presentation.

We open with Natalie Merchant’s “Ophelia.” We took all the things she wore in the video, which represented six different female archetypes, including the suffragette, nun, courtesan, athlete/circus girl, and showed these roles with the seventh being a mental patient’s hospital gown because that’s the reality of these expectations.

It’s set in a department store window from the ’50s, all on display. The yellow wallpaper was drawn with small icons to represent the short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” about the rest cure women used to be subjected to, locked in a room by some man with no stimulation, nothing to read or write. It’s what this exhibit is rebelling against.

Your two key installers were young women.

I’m not a year into this role yet, but I’ve had a strong focus on building a new and revitalized curatorial team. Emilie Molkentin, who’s just been promoted to our lead preparator, and Tessa Smith, who’s 23, a photographer, videographer and designer, are both young and bring that passion with them. They really channeled how much music means to you when you’re young in creating the exhibit spaces.

Amanda, who’s been here a long time and has risen up through the ranks, was able to share that sense of what it’s taken for women to be heard with an equal voice. Together, there’s more depth, because it’s not a singular perspective; it’s all of us coming from very different places as women who’ve loved music. We put the question to the staff, “What makes a woman revolutionary?” and really listened to the men, as well as the women, because we want everyone to feel this.

What’s the response been like?

We’ve not been open a week, but the intensity of emotions from positive vibes and so much joy to actual tears has amazed us. Jane Wiedlin talked about women’s rights being eroded when she spoke, making this exhibit emotional on a much greater level.

Over a 1,000 people came to the opening, more than for hip-hop or The Beatles. There was a line to get in and people waiting the entire night.

We’ve tagged all the women in our other galleries—Taylor Swift, Tina Turner, Blondie, Chaka Khan, Sheryl Crow, Olivia Rodrigo—to tie them to this exhibit; because on every floor, you’ll find revolutionary women all over the museum, to show this is more than just a dedicated exhibit. That’s the idea, really, and it provokes and promotes these feelings of what’s going on now and hopefully the future.

Any standout moments?

Beyond Malina playing this badass solo for the press, then walking into the gallery and putting her guitar into the plexiglass case, it’s seeing the different emotions on people’s faces. Grown women who remember, older women who can see the entirety of the struggle, but also just wonder on these little girls’ faces.

I saw a little girl, maybe five or six. I walked over, bent down to where we were eye-to-eye and asked her what her name was, what she thought. She just gushed. Listening to her, I couldn’t help myself, I said, “Regan, don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do what you want with your life,” because it’s not empty rhetoric anymore. Those little girls are growing up, like part of my team, thinking this is normal.

Is it?

In Shirley Manson’s social-media post, she wrote, “My mind has been changed. I think I’m feeling positive about the direction all of this is going.” She’s a tough customer, but seeing the women artists together, you could feel the shift in them, too.

We know people come to where they can see themselves. “Women Who Rock” in 2012 followed “Bruce Springsteen: Land of Hopes and Dreams.” That was the beginning of the work, changing the perspective and really expanding all of the artifacts we’re using to tell all the stories.

People who haven’t come and seen the work, it’s discouraging. Please come and see what we’re doing; let’s have a discussion because we’re always open to how to make the museum better. But if you’ve not seen the stories we’re telling, how we’re bringing women into all of the discussions, you’re missing what all these artists—even the ones we’ll be adding to the exhibit, to programs and concerts through the summer and into next year—are helping us build.