Guiding Children through History

The African American Museum in Philadelphia aims to show that African American history is American history, and it has implemented a number of interactive features to make sure that this message is received by one of their main audiences -- school kids.

If high schoolers and adults are most engaged by the interactive timeline on the first floor, and middle schoolers are most fascinated by the moving and speaking "portraits," then younger children must be most comfortable at "The Children's Wall."  This  long illustrated stretch of wall shows, picture book style, what life was like for the 18th century African American Child in Philadelphia.  Its impressive feat is that despite its content's specificity, it invites child of any race from any city to explore what this life was like.

Possibly the most inspired part of this exhibit are the true historical figures as child guides.  They allow children to feel even more included in the story told than if their guide was an adult.  Following these characters across the wall makes it easer for kids to feel as if they are experiencing the same things.  The historical kids meet important figures between doing day to day tasks.

There is a lot of possible programming here.  Kids can use the wall to tell a story of 18th century life.  Or, they could put on a play.  The question and answer flaps could be used as a Jeopardy game guide.  

Another asset of the Children's Wall is that it is just as useful and fun to individual families as it is to a class.  The last few months have taught us that exhibits built for children are often enjoyed by adults as well. It is easy to picture parents enjoying learning what goes into "pepper pot soup" or quizzing their kids on the school room equations. 

Dawn Horse

Object: Models of the evolution of the horse, similar to drawing above

Year: Pre- 20th century

Creator: Unknown

Materials: Unknown

The collection held upstairs at the Wagner Museum is overwhelming. The Museum's mission is to preserve the history of the institution by preserving how the collection was displayed when it was first exhibited in the building. While this gives an incredible impression of what a 19th century museum looked like, the wealth of objects cause some of the smaller items (and their educational significance) to be lost in the crowd.

A prime example is the set of six models showing the evolution of the horse. These tiny objects are in a case on the side, and near the back of the exhibit, and are very nearly hidden. Also in the case are partial skeletons of a whale, a cave bear, a mastodon, and a sabre tooth cat. In the back are (very old-fashioned) drawings of cavemen hunting a cave bear. In other words, even if visitors stop to view this case, the horse models would be the last things to catch their attention. Finally, even if a visitor spots this tiny collection, the only information to be found is the latin labels of each model: starting from the earliest ancestor, Eohippus (translation: dawn horse), and going through Pliohippus, Mesohippus, Neohipparion, and Equus Scotti before reaching today's Equus Modern.

Of course the Wagner is unable to change the display, but particular programming could highlight these objects and also aid visitors in understanding scientific fields. Middle School aged children could learn about the evolutionary theory by following the horse and its ancestors back through history, noting the changes in anatomy and guessing how the environment impacted those changes. After showing the models and a picture of an Eohippus skeleton, an educator could ask why students think that horses are so much bigger now and no longer have toes.

Or, a school teacher or museum educator could introduce anthropology by exploring the humans and horses through history. Kids could learn how horses have been used to pull ancient chariots, in farm work, and for racing. Or a particular incident of man's relationship with horses could be discussed in-depth. An example could be how horses, not native to the Americas, were introduced by the Spanish in the 16th century. Later, they revolutionized the way of life for the Cheyanne and other Plains Indians to such a degree that they were called "sacred dogs."

This would not have to be permanent programming, but it could be constructive to routinely checking the collection to see what could be highlighted.

Title: Ceremonial Royal Palace of Merenptah
Year: Created around 1213 and 1204 BCE
Material: Stone
Collection: Egypt Gallery

Egyptian artifacts, like dinosaurs, are perennially popular, so it comes as no surprise that the Egypt gallery at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology is widely thought of as an old favorite. This exhibit would attract anyone interested in ancient history, travel lovers, and even fans of The Mummy franchise.

The Penn Museum has always utilized the University's scientists and scholars. This palace, however, was excavated by famous archaeologist Sir William M. Flinders Petrie, a member of the Egypt Exploration Fund. Found in Memphis, it was one of the few royal palaces of ancient Egypt ever discovered. It is now an example of the museum's prestige.

The palace consists of a series of columns covered with pained, inlaid, and gilded images and symbols, all declaring pharaoh's power and his relation with the gods. It is easy to become entranced with just one of the pillars, and study it up close for a long period of time, yet walking through the columns, there is an overwhelming urge to look up. Nearly every visitor could not but help search the tops of the columns.

The palace remnants are not the only thing in the room; a sphinx is placed front and center, and there are friezes along the wall. The overall evocation is one of power, mystery, and the exotic. There is little doubt that this was exactly what the exhibit designer was aiming for, but in some ways the design was an old fashioned choice. Although the room is awe-inspiring, it is in a faux-exotic, colonial sort of way rather than actually communicating how life may have been thousands of years ago.

Egyptian exhibits nearly always commemorate royalty, for they house monuments and paintings that do the same. Perhaps including information on how daily life was lived could better illustrate the social structure in this ancient civilization for a museum visitor.

A Horse (or Ass) of a Different Color

Title: Kiang Diorama
Materials: Taxidermy, dried plant material, paint, wood
Collection: Academy of Natural Science's Dioramas

The Kiang Diorama, like the others in the exhibit, is about seventy years old. The Kiangs were donated by adventurer and ANS enthusiast Brooke Dolan II, who shot them while in Tibet in the 1930s. The display is between those of the tigers and the yak. The signage tells the viewer that the Kiang is a large wild ass, that can store up fifty pounds of fat for winter. It also relays that Tibetans have believed that the Kiang was created by the gods and is sacred, and that despite Chinese protection, they are still poached for meat and leather.

This diorama accomplishes three things: it familiarizes the strange while broadening a visitor's world view, it communicates the Museum's history, and it melds art and science to create an experience for the visitor.

Approaching the scene, a U.S. visitors may think that they are viewing a piece of American landscape such as Montana or Colorado. There is a sense of wide open space and blue sky that matches our ideal of the West, and the animals framed within the scene could be place-holding for burros or wild mustangs. It is not until these same visitors read the label that they realize they are in fact seeing a far off and unfamiliar locale with its own wildlife. This immersive type of experience, although old-fashioned, is none-the-less effective in educating a viewer about a completely unknown topic.

There is no doubt about the history of this diorama; the animals themselves are slightly worn, like well-loved toys. Yet instead of making the exhibit outdated and tired, this visible wear and tear shows how interrelated the scene is to the Museum's past. There is something that is simultaneously comforting and slightly awesome in seeing the same thing as a visitor in the 1940s.

Perhaps the first thing to make an impression, yet the last thing that a viewer consciously takes note of, is the beautifully crafted background of the diorama. The skilled painting with its mind-bending perspective is one of the main details that allows the viewer to believe themselves in a completely different environment. The recreation of the scene and even the placement of the animals show an artistic touch that accomplishes the Museum's goal to explore the boundaries of art and science.

Although there is much to be said for the traditional diorama, it might be an interesting update to add another dimension to the experience. Perhaps headphones could constantly play the sounds of environment so that visitors have the choice to involve another of their senses. It may also be helpful to the visitor to further understand the relationship between the kiangs and people, and to read more about how Tibetans and Chinese view the animal.

In any case, the diorama has the unique position of delighting every age and educational level. Both a child who has never heard of Tibet and an specialist in Himalayan wildlife can find something to delight them here.

Three Continents in Paris: A Giraffe's Journey to Join a Spectacle

Title: "La Girafe et les Osages"

Year: 1827

Creator: G. Renou

Collection: "Everything Giraffe"

The object focused on in this post is not the painting about, but rather a passage of G. Renou's "La Girafe et les Osages"as translated and displayed by the American Philosophical Society Museum. The translation reads:

"They're deceiving you, my good red skins, they're deceiving you. They're not showing you around for your own education. It is to display you as curious beasts. Perhaps you didn't know this. No, you couldn't possibly believe that you were a tool for a new kind of industry. Oh, Osages! You've been taken to the opera, to the most fashionable places, to the Gaité [theater], to the Tivoli Gardens; but it's not for your own beautiful eyes. They are taking advantage of you, good red skins. Alas!"

This passage is displayed in the "Everything Giraffe" part of the exhibition, which describes the effect Zarafa, a baby giraffe, had on French society when she visited there in 1827. Her time in Paris coincided with the visit of six Osage men and women from the American frontier. The passage reinforces the concept of spectacle shown by the other "giraffe-mania" objects.

Zarafa was so hugely popular, and such a source of inspiration, that giraffes started to crop up everywhere: from dinnerware to souveniers to fashion (all of which is displayed in the exhibit). The fervor with which this exotic animal was embraced was later mimicked by the Egyptomania that ensued after King Tutankhamun's tomb was found in the 1920s. Then, too, the concept of the foreign became a fad that grew to be more spectacle than honor of its original inspiration.

The Osages, although little mentioned in the exhibition, were also part of this spectacle, and the writers of the bourgeoning romanticism of the era, such as Renou above, noted this. Although this passage exemplifies the racism of the "noble savage" concept (the idea that a race is purer, yet less Machiavellian and clever, than another), it advances into the belief that a people should be treated with compassion, no matter who they are or where their from. In other words, it is progress.

It is thought that the Osages also visited Zarafa, which would have been a fascinating meeting between three continents. It would have been interesting to read more about the Osages' experience and journey as compared to Zarafa's. It would have been especially illuminating to read actual quotes of the Osages, considering that even in the passage about, where a giraffe gets to wax poetic about the woes of humanity, they have no voice.

Visitors from the Osage Nation might have their own account of their predecessors' travels. If so, it would really be a necessary addition.

Exploring Fun

Art flourishes where there is a sense of adventure.

~ Alfred North Whitehead

Year: 2009
Collection: Adventure Camp Treehouse

The Adventure Camp Treehouse is a tiny exhibit with multiple activities that may interest children within a range of ages. It is located between River Adventures and Rainforest Rhythms, and on top of Wonderland. Despite being a space independent within itself, it is also interactive with these afore mentioned exhibits: a periscope allows kids to view outside the treehouse, and a speaker tube lets them communicate with other visitors on the lower floor.

At its most basic, this exhibit and its accompanying small table and chairs is a playhouse, which is one of the most common and universal instruments that younger children use to learn. By imitating the adults that they know, small kids can role-play autonomy, responsibility, and social customs. Although such "playhouses" may consist only of a cardboard box, it is certainly more interesting when it has such fun activities as PTM's Treehouse!

There are exotic insects displayed, an adventuring costume to don, a xylophone to play, a flag to raise, morse code to send, and interesting plants to smell. All of these things have affiliated text, which not only aids grown-ups to facilitate, but may also interest older children. The morse code tool is particularly a perfect addition to engage surly elder siblings.

The multi-sensory approach of the exhibit also draws in different types of learners. The different smelling canisters (positioned at a four-year-old's level) lets kids sniff vanilla, coffee, bamboo, and chocolate while telling them the different places that these things are from. This is a novel way to inspire concepts of far-away locales in a young mind. It is a truly immersive space that allows visitors to understand the relationship between human life and wildlife at a basic level, which could be especially helpful for inner-city children who witness a completely different landscape.

Even though children who prefer the tea parties and the frilly dress-up clothes of Wonderland may consider passing the Treehouse by, there is truly something for everyone within it. Considering the popularity of characters such as Dora the Explorer, it seems likely that this space is almost constantly occupied.

A Glimmer of Grace in an Unforgiving Environment

Year: 1924
Material: wood, stone, plaster
Creator: Designed by architectural firm, built by inmates
Collection: Alfred W. Fleischer Memorial Synagogue

It seems likely that the Memorial Synagogue is a favorite exhibit for many who visit Eastern State Penitentiary. Al Capone's cell may be more of a spectacle, the isolation cells may resonate deeper with our deepest fears, and the art installations may broaden our perspective on modern prison issues. But in a literal and metaphorical unrelentingly dark space and history, the synagogue reveals an unexpected bright spot of hope.

Jewish inmates were always in the minority at the Penitentiary, yet as early as the first half of the 19th century, rabbis and other volunteers of the judaic faith from outside the prison walls provided them spiritual support. Fleischer, President of the Board of Trustees of the ESP from 1924-1928, was instrumental in founding the Synagogue, and numerous community members added their help to complete it.

After falling into disrepair and near ruin, the site was excavated and restored in 2008 and 2009. The Penitentiary was able to reinstate most of the ark, the benches, and the reading table, and recreated most of the plaster and lighting. It still has the feeling of a sacred and peaceful place that is further interpreted next door, where a former exercise room is full of stories of both the Synagogue and life for Jewish inmates.

This adjoining room is well laid out and very informative, but it may be beneficial to include more interactive elements. It may also be valuable to include information on Judaism in Philadelphia, so that visitors can gain even further perspective on both the prisoners and those who volunteered to help them.

It is difficult to think of someone who would not appreciate this space. Whether Jewish, Catholic, Hindu or atheist, visitors can see the Synagogue as a place that fostered mercy, hope and faith in a much more depressing surrounding environment. The restoration of the room can be seen as mirroring the invincibility of those qualities, and a testament to the complexity and compassion of mankind.

Burning Bright

Collection: Big Cats

The Amur tigers, better known as Siberian tigers, are hard to miss at the Philadelphia Zoo. Housed among other large cats, their outdoor habitat includes a grassy area, a few trees, a pool, and two watching areas. There were two tigers on view last Wednesday afternoon. They were not particularly playful or interactive, and visitors had the feeling that they were the ones being observed. Unlike the other items reviewed in this blog, this one is alive, and has many needs. Thus, the exhibit's main priority is fulfilling these needs, while connecting to its audience is a close second.

There are two primary and connected reasons why this particular species is on display. In once sense, they embody everything that a prototypical (and traditional) zoo would have: something large, exotic, beautiful, and dangerous. For the last couple of centuries, zoos brought in the multitudes with their tigers, lions, and polar bears -- not their rats or lizards.

On the other hand, Amur tigers are in danger of extinction. While it may be difficult to get visitors to care about the survival of the endangered jerboa, a nocturnal rodent that is difficult to display, they would have a hard time looking at such a universally acknowledged majestic animal such as these tigers and not want to help the species live on. By prodding visitors into this stewardship mode, the zoo helps to ensure the survival of many animals, jerboa included.

I think that the zoo could encourage further thought on each animal by approaching it in different ways. It would be interesting to see how the audience would react to the history of how societies have interacted with the Amur tiger. Would they look differently at it knowing that a Siberian tribe called it "Grandfather" and considered it a near-deity? How has the decimation of species affected its natural habitat, and has that changed the way neighboring humans have lived. Many have heard William Blake's "Tyger! Tyger!" poem, but how many have had a chance to read or hear it while actually being able to observe a tiger?

In some ways, a tiger exhibit is an easy choice for an exhibit that guarantees to bring visitors to the zoo. They may expect to come and stare at the animals, reliving childhood experiences and passing them down to other generations. But why not shake up that concept a bit more, and really challenge the way visitors, new and old, interact with the animals?

An Image of Childhood

Year: 1905
Material: Painted wood
Creator: Unknown
Collection: Stuga collection

The Stuga (farmhouse) Room in the American Swedish Historical Museum does an excellent job at contextualizing all of its objects. But while the size of the giant loom and grandfather clock make them highlights of the room, this little "Dala horse" can get lost in the crowd. This is unfortunate, because it must be of particular interest to children, artists, and anyone who feels nostalgia for their childhood.

The label explains that Dala horses were popular 19th century toys in Sweden. Carved from wood, they were often created during the long, snowy winters. Clockmakers were especially known for their Dala horse designs, and their journeys across the country helped spread the trend.

While its placement in the Stuga adds detail to the overall exhibit, it may be interesting to display the Dala horse with other Swedish toys and children's clothing of the time. Not only would this particular object stand out more, but the museum may benefit from an exhibit that relates specifically to children. Using history and sociology to discuss the role of both Swedish and Swedish-American children could flesh out the content.

To make this hypothetical exhibit more immersive, the curator could add an account of a clockmaker who made Dala horses, or of a child who played with one. This would further enforce the idea that this object, behind glass today, was once lovingly played with.

Spectacle and Boredom, Pain and Grace: Degas's favorite paradox

Year: 1880

Material: Oil on canvas

Creator: Edgar Degas 

Collection: European Art 1850 - 1900

The Ballet Class, one of Degas's many works that captures a less-than-glamorous moment in the world of ballet, sits in a gallery full of Impressionism. It is an excellent example of this school of art, and complements both the other works of Degas in the gallery, and those of his contemporaries.

Anyone interested in this style would enjoy studying the painting. I imaging that many visitors would stop to glance at it, because the style, the artist, and the subject matter are familiar to many, and widely accepted as "good art." The majority of these people, however, think of Degas's ballerinas as simply pretty, and miss the realism (and the refusal to lapse into romanticizing) these types of scenes.

Although there are no more Degas works in sight while standing before this particular painting, there are a few around the corner, in a connecting room. If a visitor is thorough, he or she would be able to view and compare all of his works on display.

The label begins to touch on the culture of the ballet dancer by describing the scene: the dancers practicing in the background, the mother waiting in the foreground. It also mentions the long and arduous career of the dancers. But I believe that the exhibit missed an opportunity explaining why Degas found this subject matter so fascinating.

The ballerinas, despite their back-breaking hard work, belonged more to the demimonde than to polite society, and one of their goals was to find a wealthy patron, or caretaker. Ballet mothers in 1880s Paris could be compared to modern pageant mothers, micromanaging their young daughters' careers. Explaining a bit more of this history would enlighten the viewer, and some personal accounts of the time, whether of dancer, mother, or teacher, would be especially illuminating.

Furthermore, by juxtaposing Degas's rehearsal and backstage scenes with performance scenes in the same space would show how he was enamored with this contrast: the beauty and showmanship of the performance and the exhaustion and repetition of rehearsal.

Escaping the Guillotine and the Melting Pot

Image via here

Note: Due to the Rosenbach's no-picture policy, the image above is not the silver chocolate pot described in this post. However, it was also crafted in Paris in the late 18th century before the French Revolution.

Title: Chocolate pot
Year: 1775
Material: Silver, wood
Creator: Joseph Thomas Vancouvenbeurgh
Collection: Burn This: Censorship, secrecy, and survival in the Rosenbach collection

The chocolate pot displayed in the Rosenbach's "Burn This" exhibit would draw the eye of historians, artists, francophiles, and, of course, chocolate lovers.

The pot is on display because, unlike many of its kind, it escaped being destroyed during the French Revolution. Extravagant and beautifully crafted works of silver were melted down for two reasons: first, they were seen as examples of the wasteful and selfishly indulgent lifestyle of the Old Regime's nobility, and second, they nicely filled the coffers of the new republic.

The Rosenbach's chocolate pot is a testament to what happened to similar pieces, and to the importance of being in the right place at the right time. Its survived the tumultuous time period simply because it was taken from Paris before the revolution began. In fact, it has been here in Pennsylvania ever since the 18th century.

The pot is displayed among a jumble of other items that escaped either accidental or intentional destruction, and the accompanying text explains why it is included in this exhibit. The other items are mostly textual, so the pot's contrast draws the eye. The level of the labels, however, and the room's lighting, make the signage difficult to read.

People who consider themselves indifferent to history, or who find old household objects boring, may be tempted to pass by the pot. It would be interesting to expand on its story by including revolutionary francs (which may have once come from a chocolate pot themselves) or an accompanying narrative of the type of person who would have once owned the pot. How could a visitor not be fascinated by the tale of a duke before and during the revolution?

Such a story would paint a picture of the type of time and place where censorship and destruction, the exhibit's theme, took place, and how a person may be born with a silver spoon in his mouth (and a silver chocolate pot in his hand), but die with an iron blade at his neck.

A History of Home-grown Terror

Image via 

Year: 1925
Material: Photograph
Creator:
Collection: Spies, Traitors and Saboteurs


This photo, which documents a large Ku Klux Klan march in Washington, DC 1925,  accompanied a timeline at the beginning of the exhibit. There are actually a few timelines that educate the visitors dealing with the exhibit topic, but this particular one, which traced the history of the KKK, was labeled "Hate." The collection, called "Spies, Traitors and Saboteurs: Fear and Freedom in America," is on loan from the International Spy Museum.

The photo itself is very arresting; the juxtaposition of American flags and the Capitol (symbols of liberty) with the uniforms that represent prejudice and oppression to most viewers, immediately catches the eye. This photo, as well as the timeline, is important for everyone, and is especially important to Americans.  For over a decade, citizens of the United States have been collectively thinking of terrorism. The image that comes up is of a foreign, US flag burning group, who claim to hate America. This timeline shows that terrorism against US citizens can also be committed by fellow Americans, who claim to love their country. Most people would consider the KKK a terrible and racist organization, but may not immediately think, "terrorists."

To further emphasize this message, a sign in another part of the gallery gives the US Code definition of terrorism: "the unlawful use of force and violence against persons or property to intimidate or coerce a government, the civilian population, or any segment thereof, in furtherance of political or social objectives." This sign, along with a corner describing the acts of the KKK, explain how the Klan is a terrorist movement.

The exploration of history, sociology, and politics could shed some light on how such a group has survived for so long. I can not imagine that anyone would not be interested, or at least morbidly fascinated, by this photo and the accompanying information. Even though it is a story that mostly affects Americans, many people from around the world can compare the Ku Klux Klan to some violent and prejudiced group in their own nations' histories.

I believe it would be difficult to tell an opposing narrative about this photo and timeline, but perhaps more history about the Klan's origins and first person accounts from members could give a broader perspective. However, I also feel that the exhibit's overall message would even further hit home if it included more first-hand accounts of the KKK's victims.

Reading Memories: A Favorite Object

Image via here.

Title: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

First published in 1950, received both in 1989 and 1996

Material: Paper

Creator: C. S. Lewis

This object is the perennially classic children’s book, written by Oxford don Clive Staples Lewis.

I have a reverence and need for books. I take books traveling not only to pass the time, but also so that I have their physical comfort wherever I go, whether it be a hostel in Paris, a stopped train on the Czech and Polish border, or a chicken-filled bus in Morocco. Often I will bring this book from the Chronicles of Narnia, a series that I read more times than I can count when growing up.

During my childhood, this book endlessly fed my imagination, and inspired my fascination for lions, Turkish delight, and all things English.  As an adult, it is even more precious to me. It is a reminder of my mother reading to me before I could by myself, of my father telling stories about his own childhood, and of the stuffed lion that I named “Aslan,” given to me on the occasion of becoming a big sister at my brother’s birth. In other words, it has a deeply familial value to it now.

I originally inherited my dad’s 1973 copies of the chronicles, which I read until the binding fell apart. When I was fourteen, my parents gave me a new set. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was my introduction to the series.

This book is no more on display than any of the others on my bookshelf. I do not need to make a presentation of it; the knowledge that it is there, ready to be picked out, held, and read at any time is enough for me.

Many of its literary neighbors also have sentimental meaning outside of their actual stories, but they are books that I have read twice, or even three times. By looking at these shelves of books, an observer may correctly guess that I enjoy traveling and learning about new cultures, that I prefer 19^th century romanticism to 17^th century satire and cleverly self-aware post modernism, and that I not only like reading books, but also reading books about books.

Some people did not have a favorite or important book as a child, and it may be hard for them to relate to my experience with this one. Others may never have been a fan of any type of fantasy, seeing the genre as silly.

I believe that one could engage viewers with The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe by first, telling them more about the writer (who was pretty fascinating), and second, engage them by asking their favorite story (book, comic, movie, etc) as a child.