The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum was always a controversial and curious idea. 

When Bruce Conforth accepted the job as founding curator of the museum in 1991, he was tasked with what seemed impossible at the time: institutionalize an art form that's always thrived on being anti-institutional.

As Conforth explained to a crowd of three dozen Ann Arborites and University of Michigan students Wednesday, it was a job with its fair share of controversy.

Conforth's lecture was part of the University of Michigan Museum of Art's Wednesday Night Lecture Series. The theme semester for 2009-2010 is museums in the academy.

Two challenges marked Conforth's four-year tenure as curator: tensions between the New York and Cleveland factions (the museum has boards in both cities) and the question of how best to tell the story of rock and roll without forcing specific ideas onto the viewer.

As with any big building project, cost overruns were a constant concern, so much so that Conforth focused largely on the curation aspect of the job for a year and a half, just to keep the press on the project somewhat positive. The Cleveland-New York dispute is still ongoing; there wasn't much Conforth could do to mend fences between 2 groups who see the museum as theirs.

The Cleveland board is composed of businesspeople who saw, and see, the museum as an opportunity to bring prominence and tourist traffic to Cleveland. Meanwhile, the New York board is composed of record label executives who believe that the Big Apple, home to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Foundation since 1983, is the rightful place for a cultural hub like the Hall of Fame.

Conforth's real joy and real influence on the job came in terms of how the museum tells its stories. "Museums should describe. They should not prescribe," said Conforth, who earned his doctorate from Indiana University. He cites a museum video of Elvis on "The Ed Sullivan Show" as an example of the museum's restraint, its insistence on letting the viewer decide for himself what he's looking at.

For Elvis' "Ed Sullivan" performance, cameramen weren't allowed to shoot Elvis below the waist because his hip gyrations were thought sexually explicit. "You could look at that and just label those people prudes and write them off," Conforth said, "or you can look at it and see that rock and roll was really ahead of its time and helped move the culture forward. We set the museum up so that the viewer sees what he wants to see, thinks what he wants to think," he added.

Mediating the Cleveland-New York dispute, however, took a toll on Conforth's enthusiasm for the work. Once Conforth knew that the storytelling was being done properly, he had nothing left to accomplish. And in 1995, the man who'd been the face of the museum since before it broke ground left before its grand opening.

After leaving, Conforth wrote about half of a memoir on his time at the museum, titled "Don't Rock the Hall." But he had a change of heart when his publisher sought to arrange a bevy of media appearances and a lengthy book tour. Even Oprah came calling, wanting Conforth to appear on a segment called "when dream jobs become nightmares."

But Conforth had left museum to escape those internal politics, not to dwell on them and reopen old wounds. He declined the Oprah opportunity and informed his publisher that he wouldn't be finishing the book.

After a teaching stint in Virginia and an administrative position in Pennsylvania, Conforth moved to Ann Arbor in 2000. He'd been to Ann Arbor several times in the past and had come to think of it as a land of opportunity.

With 2 local universities and a vibrant music scene, Conforth knew he'd have plenty to keep himself busy. One day he sent a cover letter to the U-M American Culture department, detailing his experiences and his interest in rejoining the teaching profession (Conforth taught at Radford University in Virginia after leaving the museum in 1995). He interviewed for, and in 2001 was offered, a position as a lecturer, and now teaches full-time with no plans of leaving any time soon. This semester he's teaching 3 courses: two on American blues music; 1 on "Beatniks, Hippies and Punks."

What Conforth likes best about the job is the opportunity to connect with students at an impressionable time in their lives.

"Teaching is a sacred occupation, a way to reach into the future," Conforth said. "Some students 'get it' right away, and others never will," Conforth explained. "And then you have the students who could go either way. But when you see that lightbulb go off, you know you've helped open up a world of possibility. I live for that."

Despite growing up in New York City and traveling the world for both work and personal enrichment, Conforth said that he now calls Ann Arbor home and plans on teaching as long as the powers that be allow.

"If I could teach my students one thing, it's that you don't need to wait to be great," Conforth told AnnArbor.com. "Take charge now; God knows what can come from it."

James David Dickson can be reached at JamesDickson@AnnArbor.com.