Who’s Afraid of Museums?
An emotional play, an audio-guide designed especially for kids and interesting guided
activities at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art kept my children happily engaged for five hours.
Who needs water slides and inflatable playground equipment when you can have fun in the
air-conditioning?
By Shirley Aharon
It was a hot day. The summer vacation had just ended,
and with it all motivation for doing anything. It was too
much. We’d done the swimming pool. Play rooms had
become boring. Even the popcorn at the movies had an
aftertaste. I was overwhelmed by the heat and the search
for the next attraction. If I underwent brain surgery, I was
sure they would find only sticky marshmallow, the left
brain pink and the right one white.
Then I remembered a notice from the Tel Aviv Museum.
To be honest, I thought it was doomed to failure as far as
my two young “culture vultures” were concerned. But
there was air-conditioning and a performance – and
anyway, what did I have to lose? I took a chance.
Air-conditioning and Art. Is there any
better combination?
Photo: Public Relation
“Most important, be not afraid…”
We began with a play called “The Boy Who Knew No Fear.” I have to admit that when I get
dragged to “commercial” children’s theater, I am put off by the plastic characters and stage sets
that are as dreary as chocolate pie in a fast-food burger joint. This time I was taken completely
by surprise. The play took on one of the most challenging subjects for children to deal with: fear.
And it did it with charm and humor, and with a sensitivity that moved me to tears. I, who was
supposed to be there for them.
I won’t spoil your enjoyment, but let me just say it’s about a little boy’s journey to the “most
frightening” places. In the end he discovers that everyone has his own very personal fear that
others don’t think is scary at all. My five-year-old daughter (who is exactly at the stage of being
flooded by fears), my nine-year-old son and I sat together, riveted, mesmerized, and enchanted
by the unpretentious and wondrous beauty of this small moment. The play itself is not
frightening at all. The actors, the story and the artistically designed stage set were perfect – as
you might expect from a museum that appreciates art.
Audio-Guide
After the performance we picked up the children’s audio-guide, a small device with an earphone
that can be removed if others want to listen as well. It is intended as a guide for children – and
adults – who want a bit more than just to wander the galleries and gawk.
We rented two, one for each child, and set off. I was skeptical. I figured that for a while they
would be intrigued by the palm-devices, but would quickly lose interest. Again, I couldn’t have
been more mistaken. Incredibly, for over five hours these children of mine scurried around the
museum, dragging me behind them as they sought out the cute icon of a child next to selected art
works, and then entered its number into the audio-guide to hear the commentary.
The audio-guide fascinates children
Photo: Public Relation
For five hours they listened, completely absorbed. The marvelous commentary showed me, once
again, how much I still have to learn about art. Their curiosity and sense of wonder are what I
usually attribute to other people’s kids, those that never scream at each other so furiously that
their mother is afraid that they are about to burst a blood-vessel. At a certain stage I broke down
and got my own audio-guide. I no longer needed any favors from either of my children to
discover how many times Maurice Gottlieb painted himself into his work, “Jews Praying in the
Synagogue on Yom Kippur, “or why the artist’s signature was forged on the painting, “The
Dutch Family.”
We were oblivious to passing time as we followed the explanations and guided activities at 26
delightful and varied art works. No one thought about being hungry or needing to go to the toilet,
or about the chill in the museum. (All summer I had longed for air-conditioning, but as I padded
around the galleries in flip-flops, my feet blue with cold, I desperately yearned for the warmth
again.)
After we got home, I related our wonderful experience to my friend Sigalit. It could only work
with your kids, she responded. Surprise. “Normal” kids – those that scream at each other so
furiously that their mother is afraid that they are about to burst a blood-vessel – don’t do
museums. So she went there with her own children, just to prove me wrong, and came back
flying high and almost swooning with pleasure.
That’s what it’s like with us mothers. We are certain that we have brought the world its Eighth
Wonder, and at the same time we fret that somehow we have managed to ruin that as well.
Mommy, when can we come again?
Photo: Public Relation