For most people when a familiar plant is mentioned particular recollections of scenes in which that plant would be found arise, often involving not merely the color or shape of the plant, but also evoking a memory of how the plant might smell, or how its fruit might taste.
At the Field Museum many plants of the world are on display for visitors to view – but unfortunately only a viewing is allowed. Although the plants are artificial (cast in wax, resin, etc.) the plants are protectively sealed behind glass casings, so even if they were real – and some do appear to be dried leaves or pieces of wood from real plants – one could not touch or smell any of the plants on display. It seems curious that an educational display of botany should neglect sensory information that is so critical to truly understanding a plant’s full nature. While the models are intricate and represent the plant very accurately, they only serve the eyes, while anyone walking in a botanical garden would agree that the true experience of a plant is multisensory. For many, when a familiar plant is mentioned, particular recollections of scenes in which that plant would be found arise, often involving not merely the color or shape of the plant, but also evoking a memory of how the plant might smell, or how its fruit might taste.
In Museum Manners: The Sensory Experience of the Museum, Constance Classen recounts the experience of Celia Fiennes in the 18th Century at Oxford’s Physic Garden:
The Physick Garden afforded great diversion and pleasure, the variety of flowers and plants would have entertained one a week, the few remarkable things I took notice off was . . . the Sensible plant [Mimosa], take but a leafe between finger and thumb and squeeze it and it immediately curles up together as if pained, and after some tyme opens abroad again . . . there is also the Humble plant that grows on a long slender stalke and do but strike it, it falls flatt on the ground stalke and all, and after some tyme revives againe and stands up . . . there is theWormwood sage . . . , a narrow long leafe full of ribbs, in your mouth the flavour is strong of Wormwood to the taste.
(in Museum Manners, p. 898)
Celia Fiennes' experience of the plants was a multisensory encounter involving touch, taste, and smell as well as sight. By comparison, the exhibit of plant life (simulated life) seems lackluster and is uninspiring. To know a plant means knowing its scent, how it feels, and in some cases, how it tastes. The displays offer a simulation for purely visual recognition, while denying the use of any other sense in the process of gaining familiarity of the objects (in this case plants) displayed.
Museums – and the display of death
While walking through the Field Muesum I discovered to the side of the main hall a mummified female form in fetal position that had been naturally mummified by the desert sands of Egypt. She lay in a glass case for visitors to view as they pass between exhibits. I was struck by the realization that only in a museum setting could a dead human figure be put on public display in this way and not repulse or incite negative reactions from people. I thought this pointed to an interesting quality of the museum experience and reveals the detachment many have towards the objects on display behind glass walls – out of reach and beyond all other sensory perception except (and perhaps more intimate than) sight.
The contemporary museum effectively provides the distance necessary between that which is on display and the observer. Museums are unique in the way that they provide an acceptable context in which to observe what normally one might shy away from – particularly in cases of displaying remains of human life.
One might expect to see dead things at a museum of natural history, but they also expect an appropriate amount of distance to exist so that they can avoid any discomfiture that might otherwise arise if confronted with something like a dead human figure.
In contrast to the contemporary museum’s distance, Classen recounts stories of people handling and even eating exhibits as the ultimate act of ownership – some even eating mummified flesh. The mythical and mystical essence of a mummy was possibly thought to be transferred through the gustatory experience of consumption. Unlike the experience of most museums today - distance was neither provided nor desired. I suspect that if the mummy I saw in the Field museum had not been behind glass and shielded from the observer – and in turn, the observer shielded from it, many people would have been appalled by the exhibition of death so close at hand. One expectation of a museum today is that it provide a comfortable amount of distance between the object of observation and the observer, and I have seen instances where interactive exhibits are approached with great caution by visitors because the normal amount of distance is breached.
Crown Family Play Lab – for children 6 and under
http://www.fieldmuseum.org/playlab/highlights.asp
While at the Field Museum I also visited the Crown Family Play Lab – an interactive, educational space intended for children 6 and under. In an exhibit meant to educate them about diurnal living habits, children are provided costumes to dress as various creatures, such as bats, and play in an area that simulates a scene such creatures would inhabit. There are other activities, such as picking and husking corn (fake corn), grinding it, and going through the process of creating tortillas. There are other areas where objects are on display, such as bones, and children are allowed to handle them, arrange objects in groups, etc. All the activities are very physically exploratory and hands-on. While it seemed to the children this was little more than any other play room – in the context of a museum it is interesting to look at what kind of behavior is allowed, even encouraged, by museums in contrast to what is expected or encouraged behavior for adults. In the adult exhibits, most often everything is hands-off, look but do not touch. The body is not involved, exhibits cater mostly to the eyes. While it is accepted that children learn by involving their entire bodies and all their senses, adults are expected to learn primarily by sight.
Sand Drawings – Nahal (a tactile and kinesthetic experience)
I found one exhibit in the Field Museum that was for adults and allowed for physical interaction of some kind – and that was provided by boxes of sand which were before a display showing sand drawings called Nahal – ‘the path.’ Several common patterns were displayed and people were encouraged to try to replicate the sand drawings by tracing their finger through the sand in long gliding, continuous lines. Here the kinesthetic experience does enrich one’s appreciation for the art form as one can experience the difficulty in creating such smooth symmetrical designs. It is said that in this craft to hesitate means imperfection – and when one strokes one’s fingers through the sand to create the elaborate designs one can feel the truth in this. The best and smoothest lines are created when one moves one’s hand without hesitation, and gently glides it over the surface in sweeping strokes. While one can appreciate the beauty of these sand drawings by simply looking at images, the experience of trying to create one makes one appreciate it all the more.
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