How I 'see' a museum

The last ’museum’ I visit was that of the Pacific Science Center, formally known as the Seattle Science Museum. I really enjoyed how the museum was catered towards entertaining the public in an interactive way. Unlike most of the museums I have been to, there was a an element present which was truly unique. What made this museum so special was that the majority of the exhibits were designed for both school children and adults alike. Why this concept works so well has to do with how each of us ‘see’ an exhibit.

Perhaps the easiest way to explain how I see an exhibit might be to recall an event from my childhood. I remember this one in particular because it was quite a common occurrence. One person would ask to see some object expecting it to be handed to them for examination, and instead would be given a witty remark: “You see with your eyes and not your hands”. Although you do physically see with your eyes, the act of actually ‘seeing’ something and understanding it in its entirety is completely different. I feel to truly see something for what it is, every aspect of it must be closely examined: size and color, texture, sound, smell, and even taste (not usually in a museum). All of which can play an intricate role in each person ‘seeing’ what something really is. Whether we know it or not our senses make us critics; especially in a museum. I tend to criticize exhibits and works in a museum far more than I would judge something simply walking down the street. I utilize all my senses, some of which feel slightly heightened.

The first thing I notice when I walk into a museum, even before my eyes fully adjust, is how it smells. Some museums tend to be musky and smell as old as the exhibits they are showing, while others can possess that new-museum smell. Once my eyes adjust, I examine how the lighting is used to portray some feeling or emotion; whether that be dark and ominous or fun and carefree. As I approach an exhibit closer, occasionally there is some audio describing the specimen, or some ferocious roar originating from the beast; both of which intrigue and excite. When I am finally close enough, and when allowed, I reach out and touch the exhibit. For me, touch might be my most powerful sense when in a museum. Whatever the texture may be, Ii always conjures up thoughts and emotions and has me ; “what does this feel like?“. I feel that it is the collaborative effect of all our senses that enable us to truly ‘see’ something for what it is.

What a museum is to me

Calling the Great Salt Lake a museum is like calling a swimming pool a wishing well. Simply because someone has tossed a penny into the lake does not constitute a change of terminology, or the meaning associated with the word, from a body of water to a place of gratified historical preservation. The American Heritage Dictionary defines a museum as: A building or place where works of art, scientific specimens, or other objects of permanent value are kept and displayed. By this definition, the lake could most certainly be considered a museum, with the one exception of having “permanent value“.

Because spiral jetty is located in a lake and is continually being changed by the environment, time, and visitors, the permanence comes into question. Now, to claim that anything is truly ‘permanent’ would be naïve. All objects on this earth are in a cycle of continual creation and destruction, and the mere existence of humans is but a grain of sand in the hourglass of life. But by comparing the changes that spiral jetty has already undertaken in the few years it has been displayed, to other works of art that have been around for centuries, we can see that it is no where near permanent; in retrospect.

I believe in order for something to be considered a museum, all of the objects contained within it must also be preserved, and of some significant “value“. The great Salt lake is far to vast to be looked after and cared for in its entirety; let alone contained and preserved. There may be objects in the lake that are worth being displayed in a museum, but the majority of the creatures and natural entities, are far to average.

For me, the word ‘museum’ paints a mental picture of ancient, priceless, artifacts and creatures from a time long since passed. Grand collections from every corner of the world; that is what a museum means to me. Although the Great Salt Lake may be magnificent and house a few pieces of art, I do not believe that it would fit the socially acceptable criteria for what a museum truly is.