If you liked the books, you probably have enjoyed the movies. If you liked the movies – whether for their beautiful costumes or the honorable use of CGI to bring Narnia to life – then you would probably feel the same way I did when someone told me there was a Narnia exhibition premiering this summer.I finally had a chance to see the exhibition at the Arizona Science Center last week … on the flight there, I wondered “Will I see a fawn? Will I see Prince Caspian’s puffy-sleeved shirt from the last scene? Would I finally get to Narnia, that place I dreamed of as a child reading the books? Would I?”
The answer: Not really.
The entrance of the exhibition is C.S. Lewis’ study (which made me wonder if the Becker Group always starts their exhibits in a person’s office).
But, after that, I was queued into the Spare Room. I stood on the fake wood floors (they were squishy, and very much not wood) and stared at the Wardrobe. There it was, in all its glory. And, it was lit by the obnoxious flat screen TVs on the wall. I didn’t hear a word of the videos. I tried not to pay attention to the attendant who was standing there too. I was waiting for something magical to happen.
And, for a moment, it did. The doors opened… I passed a closet of fur coats into a [small] thicket of fir trees. It was snowing. Tiny light flakes of foam fell all around me. I looked down at my feet, where piles of snow had built up. My friend and I stretched our hands into the air trying to catch the snow as it fell from the... TIN CAN hanging from the ceiling.
I was whisked away to Narnia… for a moment… but was tugged back into reality way too soon after having entered the exhibit. They couldn't have masked the dispenser hanging above our heads? Not only that, but I stepped backward and found carpet and then, sadly, the rest of the exhibit.
So, I wandered through the Narnia exhibit, where I was regularly tortured with oddly placed historical facts and science content. I kept trying to find Narnia again, hoping that every corner I turned would suddenly be a forest or a castle. Hopelessly searching past the gorgeous movie prop displays and wordy climate change labels (uh, yah, climate change – go ahead, just try to make the connection).
I thought, “Maybe, just maybe, it’s hidden around here somewhere.” And, it wasn’t. Narnia disappeared as quickly as it came. How could I ever recover from this disappointment?
Thankfully for Arizona Science Center, I found myself exiting out into their permanent gallery called Forces of Nature. The gallery was somewhat sparse, divided into three areas – land, air and water. But in the center was a stage. On the stage were a dozen kids and adults waiting for something to happen.
And, for a moment, it did. The doors opened… I passed a closet of fur coats into a [small] thicket of fir trees. It was snowing. Tiny light flakes of foam fell all around me. I looked down at my feet, where piles of snow had built up. My friend and I stretched our hands into the air trying to catch the snow as it fell from the... TIN CAN hanging from the ceiling.
I was whisked away to Narnia… for a moment… but was tugged back into reality way too soon after having entered the exhibit. They couldn't have masked the dispenser hanging above our heads? Not only that, but I stepped backward and found carpet and then, sadly, the rest of the exhibit.
So, I wandered through the Narnia exhibit, where I was regularly tortured with oddly placed historical facts and science content. I kept trying to find Narnia again, hoping that every corner I turned would suddenly be a forest or a castle. Hopelessly searching past the gorgeous movie prop displays and wordy climate change labels (uh, yah, climate change – go ahead, just try to make the connection).
I thought, “Maybe, just maybe, it’s hidden around here somewhere.” And, it wasn’t. Narnia disappeared as quickly as it came. How could I ever recover from this disappointment?
Thankfully for Arizona Science Center, I found myself exiting out into their permanent gallery called Forces of Nature. The gallery was somewhat sparse, divided into three areas – land, air and water. But in the center was a stage. On the stage were a dozen kids and adults waiting for something to happen.
I couldn’t resist. I joined them. What could we possibly be waiting for on this darkened stage?
Then it happened. Lightning struck – overhead, there were speakers and videos explaining the phenomenon of lightning and thunder… KABOOM!! The whole crowd leapt right out of their skins! Then, the forest fire started… heat lamps came on… it was hot. The tornado that followed caused everyone to huddle into warm family circles, holding onto loose items. The earthquake, the volcano eruption, the hurricane, the sand storm, the monsoon… every single last one of them rocked the stage. (Well, except for the earthquake, oddly enough; it could have been better.)
The audience was wowed.
And, for all of those 5-7 minutes I, too, forgot that I was standing in the middle of an open gallery full of people. It was awesome.
No – SPECTACLE, it was!
Now, it sounds like it was only spectacle. What could people have ever learned from that? Well, my response to that question is that they learn what they would if they were actually standing in them in real life. I saw parents explaining what was going on while it was happening (or shortly thereafter), what a tornado is, why the rain made “this” a hurricane instead of another tornado, and more. I heard people exchange stories about storms they had been in.
Did I actually see “learning” happening in a spectacle? What? You’ll have to see it for yourself and attempt to tell me I’m wrong.
I even dare you to try to tell me that it wasn’t more effective than the Narnia exhibit. In Narnia vs. Nature, I choose Nature. Way to go, Arizona Science Center!
Then it happened. Lightning struck – overhead, there were speakers and videos explaining the phenomenon of lightning and thunder… KABOOM!! The whole crowd leapt right out of their skins! Then, the forest fire started… heat lamps came on… it was hot. The tornado that followed caused everyone to huddle into warm family circles, holding onto loose items. The earthquake, the volcano eruption, the hurricane, the sand storm, the monsoon… every single last one of them rocked the stage. (Well, except for the earthquake, oddly enough; it could have been better.)
The audience was wowed.
And, for all of those 5-7 minutes I, too, forgot that I was standing in the middle of an open gallery full of people. It was awesome.
No – SPECTACLE, it was!
Now, it sounds like it was only spectacle. What could people have ever learned from that? Well, my response to that question is that they learn what they would if they were actually standing in them in real life. I saw parents explaining what was going on while it was happening (or shortly thereafter), what a tornado is, why the rain made “this” a hurricane instead of another tornado, and more. I heard people exchange stories about storms they had been in.
Did I actually see “learning” happening in a spectacle? What? You’ll have to see it for yourself and attempt to tell me I’m wrong.
I even dare you to try to tell me that it wasn’t more effective than the Narnia exhibit. In Narnia vs. Nature, I choose Nature. Way to go, Arizona Science Center!
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