|
Objects décorative
Objects as decorations in museum exhibitions
David Smith
One of the distinguishing features of museums
is the collection and display of objects. Objects have significance
in varied ways. Often the significance lies in their provenance,
the suite of features and background information that allows us
to interpret them in an historical context.
Biological objects may have other kinds of significance.
A specimen may be the 'type' against which other members of the
animal kingdom —and especially others of that species—are
compared. Alternatively a specimen may have significance in terms
its position in a size or age distribution that helps define the
nature of a population of animals or plants.
The value of many specimens lies in their rarity.
A fossil tooth may be the only one of its kind in existence and
yet its discovery may alter profoundly the relationships between
groups of organisms that live—or once lived—on earth.
Many objects in Museum Victoria's collections have an additional
level of value: they are simply beautiful. Residing as it does in
the eye of the beholder, beauty may be somewhat ephemeral: 'This
is the most beautiful piece of granite'; 'What a superb Culpepper's
microscope'; 'What a fine dung beetle'.
This raises the interesting question of the
validity of displaying objects primarily as decoration: is it legitimate
in a museum context? I believe the answer is yes.
Entomologists store butterflies pinned out in
drawers. This minimizes damage, helps preservation and certainly
helps researchers see patterns of relatedness at a glance. You open
a drawer and a meticulously prepared array of specimens is revealed,
making it relatively simple to see obvious differences in coloration,
pattern and shape. An entomologist will more than likely see the
specimens within a taxonomic framework: similarities and differences
have significance in terms of defining the variability inherent
in a given familial group. Bring in a novice and the comment may
well be 'These are so beautiful!'
From time to time the museum has displayed cases
of butterflies primarily for their aesthetic appeal and that is
a very good thing: they remind us forcefully of the wonder and diversity
of life on this planet. I recall a superb display of beetles in
the 'Gargantuans from the Garden' exhibition that originated in
the Australian Museum and traveled widely. Designer Desmond Freeman
simply took a large number of beetles—perhaps fifty in all—ranging
from very tiny to quite large and laid them out in order of size
in what architects refer to as a volute Ð a spiral resembling a
snail's shell. The only reference to taxonomy was to name the genus
and species on a small label: otherwise the value of the exhibit
lay in its aesthetics. In the Mind & Body Gallery at the new Melbourne
Museum we will feature a series of paintings by artist Isobel Johnson.
Isobel painted a variety of cells in the body ranging from nerve
cells to bone cells, from liver to fat cells. The spectrum of colours
and shapes is entrancing. Why did we have the cells painted? Because
despite all we understand about the functioning of these building
blocks of life, we wanted to celebrate a completely different aspect
of biology: the architecture that has evolved in nature is beautiful.
Professor Julius Sumner Miller said as much
when he offered a definition of science that distinguished it from
technological spinoffs: "Science is about uncovering the orderly
beauty of nature." Today we might invoke references to the Mandelbrot
set or to chaos theory rather that admitting to the power of order,
but Miller was right in asserting the intimate interweaving of science
and art. And if they are interwoven, why not celebrate the science
in one exhibition and the art in the next? Or better still, do both:
hook the audience with the aesthetics, then, when they're intrigued,
offer them some information as well.
Dr David Smith is a physiologist, film-maker
and author. He is currently Director of the Human Mind & Body Program
at Museum Victoria.
|