I provoke their thoughts, I guess.

I continue to be amazed by the fact that professionals in the museum field partially (if not completely) reject the methods used in the attraction experiences. I have learned from studying various theatrical and attraction experiences that their designs can easily translate to the museum context. I have said it before and will say it again: museums have a unique opportunity to combine spectacular design with their core - the authentic stories, activities and objects they possess - to create truly extraordinary exhibitions.

I recently received feedback on my article "Spectacular Design in Museum Exhibitions," which I submitted for publication. The tendency to associate negative images and meanings to "spectacle" is the reason I feel the need to share one of my reviewer's comments, who brought up the conspiracy theory around spectacle (in the same way that Guy Debord does in Society of the Spectacle):

"Of course the major “problem” with spectacle is that its point is to leave a strong emotional impression. In order to do this in a way that feels meaningful, the experience has to be about something suitably “large,” such as death, power, injustice, etc. In addition, because immersion in spectacle is about letting go of critical thought and even individuality (spectacles tend to be group activities), it has a strange and potentially dangerous power. Is it an accident that so much spectacle is in support of totalitarian structures (China in the cultural revolution, North Korea, Hitler, etc.) and associated with propaganda and the dropping of critical faculties? That same state of mind works well in separating audiences from their dollars, as it does people from their freedoms. But is this what people come to museums for?"

I admit in my article that "spectacle 'erases the dividing line between self and world' (Debord 1995). Debord lists this as a the problem with spectacle - that this distance from reality created by spectacle is what allows evil people like Hitler to impress their ideals upon, well, impressionable subjects.

... but so can good food, right? I mean I could probably convince YOU to do something silly by dangling homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in your face. Not unlike "the force" in Star Wars or weapons in the hands of kids, spectacle can be used for evil if it is in the hands of someone who is deeply disturbed. Hitler could have used cookies. And the problem isn't the cookies - it's Hitler.

And, after listening to visitors in Dinosphere at The Children's Museum of Indianapolis, I'll say that the desire to be whisked away to a different time or place exists. That exhibit wouldn't be as effective without that feeling... that feeling of no longer being in the reality you were once in. I think visitors look to museums for memorable experiences... and sometimes spectacle helps us achieve that in ways that we might not otherwise be able to.

I just found it funny that I tried my best to steer clear of this discussion in the 6,000 word article... and here I am, writing about it.

Anyway, as it turns out, the reviewer thought that more people should read what I wrote and strongly encouraged the publication of the article. So, here I am, like a star on The Daily Show, promoting myself:

For a thought-provoking read, please catch the July 2009 edition of Curator: The Museum Journal!!


References:
Debord, Guy (1995). The Society of the Spectacle. New York: Zone Books.

Why U2 is like a group of Lemurs...

After my advisor and her husband saw U2 3D in Boston, she asked “What is it about that experience that translates to exhibit design?”

As I have stated before, U2 3D is an IMAX film that transports audience members to a concert in South America. During the show, you feel that Bono is within arms reach, the “crowd” is standing in your way, and the music is pumping through your blood. The band seems so incredibly accessible. The design of the real-life stage set already puts them into the crowd, but even in a theater thousands of miles away, the 3D effects and glorious surround sound give you an experience that is as close to being there as possible. In a sense, I could say that the film brought the band to me – placing them in my city, in my time – allowing me to experience something that I might not otherwise be able to experience.

...almost like taking a wild animal from Africa and placing it in a realistic environment, just a Plexiglas window away from me.

That’s right. I just compared U2 on a stage to animals in a cage. Seeing a concert (even a 3D film version), is kinda like seeing an animal at a zoo… or a jellyfish in a tank at an aquarium… or a taxidermy mammal at the Smithsonian. Not to objectify these handsome band mates, but Bono, Edge, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen really are like the foreign, real-but-out-of-reach flora and fauna at living museums we hold so dear.

U2 on screen at Indy IMAX vs. Lemurs at Indianapolis Zoo

So, why does U2 3D work, if you think of it as an exhibit? Well, the use of a screen that stretches into your peripheral vision… of sound effects… and the cunning use of darkness in the room and on the screen allow you to feel encompassed by the concert environs. (It's really hard to tell where the screen ends and the room begins - an excellent illusion created by design.)

It’s the same effect that an animal scene at Animal Kingdom provides – like you are in a rainforest WITH the animals, not just “around” the animals. To get this feeling, zoos and aquariums have implemented spectacular exhibit designs – like underwater dolphin domes, massive jellyfish tanks, and pools where you can swim up to Polar Bears who are just beyond the heavy glass partition.

There is a reason for having such designs – the realness of it has a lasting effect on people. There is no denying how a change of perspective – even artificially – can change YOUR perspective.



Photo Credits:
http://www.indyzoo.com/pdf/RingtailedLemurs.jpg
www.timeout.com/img/38685/w513/image.jpg

TOMB - You Can't Judge a Book by its Cover

At first glance, TOMB doesn’t look like much. It’s an open studio space a few steps up from the sidewalk on Brookline Ave in Boston. Two-thirds of the room appears to be gift shop and seating. In the other third, you find a rickety tent, a wood and stone tomb entrance and an Egyptian themed stone edifice.

But, not unlike a dusty book, it’s what is inside that counts! The 5WITS studio extends much farther than the façade of TOMB. There are three large rooms beyond the walls I saw when I entered.

A guide enters the room carrying a box of flashlights – she shouts “All archeologists who are here for the 10:45 tour, follow me into the tent over here” [pointing at the muslin tent I saw earlier]. I found myself in a group of three – two 10-year-old boys and me. This small group appeared to be a good thing, as the guide only had three flashlights. From what I know about tombs, it was probably going to be dark in there…

Together, we contacted Director C, an older academic type with a terrible British accent, who also happened to be somewhere else in the world and only reachable by radio transmitter. He was supposed to give us instructions for finding the burial chamber inside the tomb, but instead he warned us about how dark it is in there, that there are traps, and that a professor that used to work for him disappeared inside long ago [gulp].

(By the way, in the presence of two 10-yr-olds, it’s easier to buy into this story, whether or not I believed it was true.)

The guide armed us with flashlights, and off we went into the tomb. “Armed” is a term I use loosely, because as soon as we went in, the flashlights died. It was pitch-black! Admittedly, I am still a little afraid of the dark – especially in this space that was unknown to me. I caught myself taking a step closer toward the guide and the kids just to feel the comfort of numbers (like swimming in the ocean, where you think that sharks won’t attack you if you are in a group… okay, maybe I’m the only person who ever thinks this works…)

Lights began to flash and suddenly the ghost of the Pharaoh appeared! After “greeting” us, the Pharaoh threatened us with death by flooding!!! Well, that is, if we didn’t pass the challenges we were about to face. What??!!?? Challenges?? Bwaah ah ah ah ah!

I don’t want to give too much away, but I will tell you this – every puzzle we had to solve and physical test we endured WAS a challenge – sound sequencing, puzzle solving, I-spy activities, and more. The boys and I were stressed when we couldn’t get the sound sequence right… jumped when we were attacked by snakes… thought we were going to be crushed under a falling ceiling… and that time was going to run out when we tried to solve a hieroglyph column cryptogram.

We survived - and we were proud of it. After working together through several challenges, we were a team, high-fiving each other and clapping. We essentially played together. It was great.

At children’s museums, play is learning. They use immersive environments to introduce content, display objects, and reach out to an audience with a complex mix of backgrounds and educations. In exhibits like Bob the Builder – Project: Build It from The Children’s Museum of Indianapolis, preschool aged children learn through shape-sorting, building, collaborative activities, and physical activity. In Curious George: Let’s Get Curious by the Minnesota Children’s Museum, kids and families work together to power a windmill, move blocks through a conveyor belt, and sort vegetables at a fruit stand.

At Arizona Science Center’s Forces of Nature exhibit, you are thrown into a storm to experience something you may have only seen on TV. If you make it to an installation of Goose Bumps: The Science of Fear by California Science Center and Science Museum of Minnesota, you will find yourself challenged by activities that draw humiliating attention to your fears (and the effects of fear on your body). And finally, in the touring King Tut exhibitions by AEI, you can walk through tomb-like spaces to see objects on display.

These exhibits are created by the world’s leaders in exhibit design, are revered by others in the field. They don’t have a hard time explaining their rationale or “where the science is” or “where the learning” is. They just do what they do, and people flock to them. (And they should. They are awesome.)

TOMB is the closest experience to a museum exhibit - without actually being in a museum - that I have studied that uses spectacular design. But I fear that it has to [unjustifiably] defend itself as a transforming or learning experience. In my opinion, if you can say that working together to feed balls into a water pump or strapping into a fall simulator to see if you squeal are learning experiences, then you can surely find TOMB to be a learning environment too.

Nature vs. Narnia

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.

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!

Photo Credits:

http://www.azscience.org/exhibitions.php

http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xeoGXlVF7_s/SFib79U8kRI/AAAAAAAAD6c/RjEdjwQajZM/IMG_1946.jpg

La Nouba

I begin the tale

With a breath, I inhale

And cast a spell

Using words that propel

Set you assail

To the place

Where dreams of men dwell

Cirque du Soleil La Nouba is hands-down the best Cirque show that I have seen in person. It is quite possibly the most spectacular live show I have ever witnessed. And so, I selected it as one of the case studies in my research on the exhibit spectacle. I consider it an example on the “spectacle” side of the Continuum of Experience. In the same way that I feel we can learn from design tactics in Tomb and U2 3D, I feel that we museum professionals can learn from experiences like La Nouba.

First, a quick background on the show, according to the official website:

The show name La Nouba originates from the French phrase
"faire la nouba," which means to party, to live it up… La Nouba features two
groups of characters. Throughout the show, the magic and fantasy of the
colourful Cirques (circus people) clash with the monochromatic world of the
Urbains (urbanites). But as in fables, it is not so much this contrast as the
interplay between the two groups which sparks our curiosity and feeds our
imagination.

Nightmares efficiently await

To test one's fate

By how well

You can deal with

A tale that tells itself

Said the storyteller

A bestseller

Is what I had in mind

My husband, 13-yr-old stepdaughter Lauren and her friend Alexa went to see it two weeks ago… Lauren and my husband saw the show two years ago. It was actually her special request this year that we go on this trip – to see it again.

Perhaps you didn’t hear me – a 13-yr-old… who is too cool for just about everything older than she is… who would rather spend her days replying to messages on her Facebook Wall… requested that her one vacation this summer be to see this show. Again.

After seeing La Nouba for the fourth time, I thought there was a good chance that I would feel less excited, less impressed, less in awe or that the show would be predictable or old. I also wondered if Lauren and my husband would feel some loss of enthusiasm for the show the second go-round. But the exact opposite occurred!

I can’t bring myself to describing the show to you… I don’t want to ruin any suspense you might feel going to see it for yourself. Plus it is incredibly indescribable. Seeing the show, once again, proved to me that it has the power to have long-term effects on people… why would I ruin it for you first-timers?

Which brings me to my lessons learned – First, if you can’t describe it, it peaks the interest of the people you tell about it. They only know how excited you are to talk about it. Imagine if we could market a new exhibit but never ever say a word about what you can do in it…

The second thing I realized this time was that the show is a living production. It changes ever so slightly every time a performer changes or the audience changes. The performance seemed a little new to me this time. It also seemed new to Lauren.

Lastly, the music and audio are the glue that holds the show together and creates the drama. Since the purpose of the show is to see the two types of characters interacting, lots of things can be happening at once. The timing of the music, the footsteps, the jumps, the drops, the singers all affect how you experience the show. The fact that the music was just as I remembered it was the reminder to me that It. Makes. This. Show. Work. And Lauren agreed. She told me afterward that it is the music that “makes it Cirque.”

Ladies and gentlemen

Settled in?

Once upon a time

Is where you'll find me

La Nouba

I keep talking about striking a balance between spectacle/wonder and delivery of content. We want to captivate people with our exhibits… and there are clever, beautiful ways to do this. It helps them remember it. But we also want them to learn something.

La Nouba has the luxury of a permanent, noise free environment. It’s producers don’t have to worry about delivering content or about caring about whether or not people “get it.” But, nonetheless, I can't deny it the credit it deserves.


References:

Cirque du Soleil La Nouba official site: http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/CirqueDuSoleil/en/showstickets/lanouba/intro/intro.htm

Fan Review- http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/CirqueDuSoleil/en/showstickets/lanouba/fanReview/fan_review.htm

Fireworks

My husband and I were discussing fireworks the other day… because it was the Fourth of July and we, once again, were not going Downtown to see them. We kept asking ourselves “why?”

I recall going to the baseball park in my hometown of Walton, IN every year as a child. They used to claim that they had the biggest fireworks display in the state, but I have the sneaking suspicion that all small towns say that. I am still not sure how this is measured. Regardless of how big they actually were, it was where everyone went on the 4th.

[Now is a good time to point out that I am a firm believer that the interest in a fireworks show is not solely related to a desire for exhibiting one’s patriotism. I really think that people love the thrill of fire in the sky. Fireworks, which were probably invented on accident in some guy’s kitchen, allow ordinary people to feel powerful, get close to fire, and “ooh” and “aah” at pretty shiny things that are only really legal one time per year unless you live in the outback. Basically, we want spectacle, and it can’t happen in any ordinary situation or in any ordinary place. Fireworks are extraordinary.]

Anyway, back to my memory…

When I was 10 or 11, our town decided to set the fireworks to music. At the time, I figured this was a new trick that only my town did – only to find out later that many small towns in Indiana were doing the very same thing. But it was amazing. When the finale was exploding overhead, I heard the National Anthem play over the field’s loud speakers. I remember lying on my parents’ car, staring up at the sky. One firework was a brilliant white “cage” falling down on all sides of the park. For a moment, it looked solid and looked like it would touch ground somewhere (much like a rainbow appears to) and would be there forever… then it disappeared. I’ll never forget what that looked like.

Further back in my memory is the first time I played with sparklers. It was during a party at my house. My mom worked in the Air Force and her entire division came out to our house in the country for a pig roast and fireworks. All of the children at the party got to play with sparklers before everything else began. We would draw pictures in the air that disappeared as fast as we drew them… but we were fascinated. It never seemed like there were enough sparklers to fulfill our wants.

Nowadays I watch the fireworks in the distance as I am driving home or somewhere else. I think that it has been at least three years since I last participated in the festivities.

I mentioned this to one of the security guards at the museum. He said “Got kids?” to which I replied that I had a 13-yr-old stepdaughter that isn’t usually with us on the 4th. He said “When you have kids, you will remember why you used to go.”

So, that got me thinking. Do children have an easier time suspending disbelief in events like this? They don’t hold judgment… they just enjoy it. Every year. Adults have to add live rock bands, exotic locations, beer, food and fellowship to enjoy it. I think that I suddenly found myself envying children, who are so easily pleased or affected by the simplest form of spectacle – flashing lights against a dark sky.

I told my husband that we need to start trying again to enjoy the things that used to be extraordinary but have somehow become ordinary to us.


Photo Credit: www.eduplace.com/.../1-2/narrative.html

To Clarify: The Continuum of Experiences

I have come to the conclusion that many exhibits (or events) have elements that are spectacular – but a small percentage of them are very powerful, transporting their visitors to places and times that they would not ordinarily be able to go. Few actually offer an experience that pushes the limits of the human imagination and causes visitors to forget momentarily the ordinary world outside.

Imagine a continuum of experiences, where “ordinary” experiences are at one end and “spectacles” are at another. For the sake of explanation, I have dropped a few exhibitions and events that I have personally experienced into just such a continuum. (Forgive the crude diagram below.)

Spectacle ---o-----o---------o----------o----------o-----o- Ordinary

According to my diagram, a live performance of Cirque du Soleil La Nouba is nearest to spectacle. From just about any seat in the theater, you feel like a part of the show. The music, the light, and the visually stunning performances of the actors are wholly unique and undeniably unforgettable.

U2 3D is also a very powerful experience, using design elements such as a wide-format screen, well-directed camera angles, the absence of light and groundbreaking 3-D effects to transport viewers to a concert in South America. U2 3D and La Nouba rank highest in spectacular design, most likely due to the nature of those types of experiences.

Dinosphere and the Tower of Terror – with the use of sound and light, take visitors back to the Cretaceous Period or into the Twilight Zone - have stronger spectacle design qualities than the U505 exhibition at the Museum of Science & Industry. In U505, the exhibition design first appears to build up to a grand finale, only to end in a disappointingly dull display of a giant artifact. (Where are the lights and sounds, I say? They totally could have gotten away with this here.)

Most museum exhibits in the world are more like the Dior exhibition I saw at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. I remember it fairly well, thanks to the discussion I was having with coworkers in the gallery – but I couldn’t tell you what the dresses looked like. I was too focused on the (yawn) unexceptional method of display. Imagine if it would have been designed to look like a runway… like you were in the front row of at the fashion show. But instead it looked like you were standing in a pale museum gallery staring at manequins. Which you were.


Now, admittedly, the continuum of experiences could vary from person to person. But something tells me that experiences like U2 3D and Dinosphere will always fall closer to the specatacular end of the scale, versus Dior.

The purpose of my research is to figure out what it is that can help ordinary exhibits, in design terms, become exceptional… I mean, SPECTACULAR!