Katie Aymar
An Interpretive Profile of the Museum of Jurassic Technology: Analyzing Exhibition
Methods & Current Challenges
As noted in the Museum of Jurassic Technology’s Jubilee Cataloguei, Hubble’s
astronomical observations in the 1930’s lead to the discovery that the universe is
expanding, with a growing distance between objects. In reverence, the following passage
acknowledges those who undertake the futile task of preservation, in the face of oblivion
on a cosmological scale.
Against thisii flood of darkness, against this inevitable annihilation, certain
individuals are called upon to preserve what they can. And those of us who can
hear and heed this call to hold back for a time some small part of existence from
the inevitability of entropic disintegration have come to be known as collectors.
The philosophical sentiment embodied herein can most certainly be applied to the
Museum of Jurassic Technology as a whole. Consolidating many private collections, the
Museum preserves a multitude of profoundly unexpected materials. Rescuing objects and
information from the cracks in our collective attention, the Museum also functions to
restore associations, lost perhaps, through the ensuing isolation of matter entailed in
universal expansion.
It was during the 1980’s that David Wilson was inspired to start his own museum,
a project that he describes as his life’s work. A student of urban entomology and
filmmaking, David’s museum-creation was embarked upon after he had the opportunity
to use a space in the Pasadena Film Forum for an art installation. He created four vitrinehoused dioramas fronted by stereoscopic, catoptrical viewing devicesiii. Aided by his
work on lighting, optical illusion, and diorama-construction, and after five years of
planning, David and his wife Diana leased a nearly condemned building in the Palms
District of Los Angeles to set up exhibits. David notes that they “had no idea if anyone
would ever come.”
Slowly, infrequently, people trickled in. In its early years, the MJT even
coordinated opening a German branch, the Karl Ernst Osthaus Museum in Hagen. By the
mid-90’s, the museum was visited by a journalist named Lawrence Weschler. He
decided to write about it, and the ensuing book, “Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonder”
brought attention to the Museum, popularizing the understanding of it as a modern
wunderkammen and as a place to “achieve states of wonder”iv.
By 1999, the Wilsons bought the whole building to house their original
collections and those donated by enthusiasts. During times of financial trouble they
moved and began sleeping on the floor of the museum with their daughter. Financial
support was difficult to come by for such an unusual institution, until 2001 when David
won the MacArthur “Genius Grant”. Without profit or promotion in its vocabulary, the
museum has had an extraordinary 23-year existence. The museum has expanded to
include the Borzoi Cabinet Theater, which screens three in-house documentaries shot in
Russia, and most recently- a rooftop garden courtyard.
Having once stumbled upon or sought out the Museum of Jurassic Technology,
you will depart a short distance, but a long way from the expected. Wilson says, “We like
experiences that break the hard shell of certainty. Knowing too much can actually be a
severe limitation. Not knowing and not quite understanding opens up the individual to an
experience of the world which we think is valuablev.”
Among the collections you will discover such wondrous and disparate objects as
micro-miniature sculptures, letters to Mt. Wilson observatory from correspondents with
cosmological concerns, and portraits of dogs in the Soviet Space program. Sitting in a
dark velvety booth, you don 3-D glasses to watch a video about the 17th century German
Jesuit scholar Athanasius Kircher. German and English ride over one another,
interpolated by church chanting, and chimes from the next room. The cascading auditory
and visual stimuli envelop you in a multi-sensory experience of perceptual distortion.
Telephones beckon you to become a part of the one-sided dialogue with objects; buttons
and microscopes coax you to interact physically as well as viscerally. Here you may
come to understand, the Museum of Jurassic Technology retains a flavor of “incongruity
born of the overzealous spirit in the face of unfathomable phenomena.vi”
My first visit left me deliriously confused and inspired. Submerged in the vast
darkness, I wandered cautiously and circled rooms repeatedly, finding ever-continuous
hallways of unpredictable displays. In a corner, in homage to Proust, an excerpt of
Remembrance of Things Past is augmented by a teacup and madeleine. Three tubes at the
bottom release the fragrance that transported him to his childhood. As I discovered the
scent-releasing buttons concealed in the darkness, I was compelled to rabidly re-examine
the displays I had already visited—searching for some secret function I might have
missed. Wandering the dark, self-contained space I wondered, is it a metaphor for the
mind? Am I spelunking in the brain of its creator, or the consciousness of the “museum”
as an institution? Are the exhibits themselves memories—sometimes fallible and always
subjective?
The often-destabilizing effect of the MJT’s modes of exhibition can become a
subversive experience. Suspending expectations of a traditional museum, the visitor is
incited to supply meaning--negotiating whether to accept, reject, or sublimate the
narratives within the museum walls. Among the collections are Ethnological and
Zoological treasures, displays on physical phenomena, and exhibits of specialized
knowledge. Displays harmonize far-fetched things so the observer may come to see each
object as part of a new constellationvii. Concretizing the motto, Ut Translatio Natura,
“Nature as Metaphor,” the museum posits nature as symbolic, rather than as spectacle or
bric-a-brac.
Whether more proximal to history or mythology, the museum preserves a memory
of the past, evoking continuous time, unbroken by schisms in art and science. It disrupts
the dominant rationality in museum spaces that are sequentially, taxonomically ordered,
and casts back the dismissive nature of modern science toward other ways of knowing.
The space is steeped in a discerning religiosity as well, invoking Noah’s Ark as a
collection, and incorporating scriptures into certain exhibition materials. Through
exhibits such as Vulgar Knowledge, the Museum visualizes folk beliefs—practices
considered superstitions today. Unfounded as some of the remedies may seem, the
displays demonstrate an inexplicable knowledge acquisition. The observer may regard
these with skeptical amusement or be agitated to reflect on the authenticity and value of
personal and collective truths.
To similar effect, a film playing in the upstairs theater, The Common Task,
demonstrates the lineage of beliefs that have lead to technological advancement in space
travel. In “Chapter One,” we learn of Nikolai Federovitch Federov, a philosopher of midnineteenth century Russia who believed all human problems sprung from the existence of
death. Accordingly he propounded that all humankind should devote itself to the task of
“universal physical resurrection of all who have gone before but are no longer living.viii”
As a practical solution to the inevitable overpopulation, Federov proposed that our
ancestors venture into space in search of new homes. In “Chapter Three”, we learn of
Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, a Russian born in 1857 who, inspired by Federov’s work, aimed
to achieve the technological means of traveling and living in space. Though he never
created a rocket engine himself, Tsiolkovsky independently produced hundreds of
scientific papers developing theories of rocketry and strategizing space exploration.
Tsiolkovsky in turn influenced the next generation of Russian engineers and designers,
including Sergey Korolev, “whose undauntable efforts launched humanity into space.ix”
In apropos form, the film employs a non-linear, slow motion display of images, which in
itself, “can capture images which escape natural visionx” Drawing conclusions from this
film and other exhibits, the museum builds a Borgesian bridge between ancient wisdom
and developments of the more recent past.
Interpretations that surface in analyzing the Museum of Jurassic Technology
nevertheless fail to fully elucidate the Museum’s intentions. The substance of the exhibits
is not singularly defined, nor is a message dragged into the open, fostering a sense of
latent meaning. As David Wilson attests, “We want to set up conditions to allow people
to have their own experience.xi” Exhibition techniques used effectively make the space
heuristic; visitors are stimulated to sift through explicit content to discover a personal
truth.
Inspired by eclectic collecting and exhibition practices of the past xii, the museum
blends a flair for the anachronistic with creative modes of display. According to the MJT,
its purpose is educational—dually serving to house artifacts of the Lower Jurassic, and
provide the public a hands-on experience of life in that period. If the visitor comes to the
conclusion that the Jurassic is both a fabricated time and place, meaning must then be
ascribed from personal interpretation. Hybridizing believable and questionable
information, interpretive materials serve up circumlocutory explanations. As Stafford
puts it in Devices of Wonder, faced with the unknown, “we all bootstrap stimuli together
and make our perceptions interact”xiii. Confronting an audience with an alternate truth the
MJT engages visitors in an analogy between itself and all other institutions.
As it turns out, the curation and operation of the Museum is as correspondingly
intuitive for its employees as it is for its viewers. Exhibits are drawn from fascinations
followed, and collections serendipitously acquired. The operations of this small private
institution are unusual. The limited but close-knit staff functions in a collaborative, nonhierarchical setting; everyone takes part in both creative endeavors and menial tasks.
Deposing current museological trends toward rapid expansion, the MJT completely
avoids self-promotion. It has grown by its artistic appeal to a growing legion of admirers,
and by the devoted stewardship of its employees.
Of course the challenges of the Museum demand conscientious decision making
about what compromises can be made. Swept up in the word of mouth that has catapulted
the MJT to a covert renown, the staff struggles to preserve the experience for its visitors.
How many visitors at a time are too many? How can the staff delicately encourage people
to make donations, and respect policies on cell phone use and flash photography? In the
beginning, David Wilson seemed to have no expectations; he wasn’t sure that anyone
would show up. At this point the museum receives 23,000 visitors a year, which may not
rival the Getty, but makes it a veritable destination, given the factors of its existence.
Emerging from obscure beginnings, the MJT is increasingly sought out on the
basis of enthusiastic recommendations, and its proximity to the gentrified downtown of
Culver City. On a Saturday filled to capacity, the museum’s strapped employees grapple
with retaining the aesthetic and ambience of the space. Nuisance also arises from outside
promotion. Authoritative figures putting out explanatory material, or unauthorized
Facebook pages being made pose the potential to infringe on the ability to have an
individual experience of the museum. Though outside perspectives are not condemned or
controlled, the MJT must nevertheless strive to preserve its nuanced autonomy alongside
its collections.
Paradoxically, its popularity has not assuaged financial difficulties. Increased
visitation increases costs, and it further seems there are many more fans than members of
the museum. In spite of ubiquitous financial difficulties, David has said, “in my
experience to do any project that is of value means you’re functioning in a different
relationship to the larger economy. Things that are really interesting exist in some way or
another on the margins.xiv”
Fulfilling this perspective, the Museum of Jurassic Technology exists poetically,
resisting dissection, definition and category. To pose a metaphor for the museum, I am
reminded of the inaccessible spaces where our ancestors made the first artful images by
firelight. Here, meaning is elusive, revealing flickering glimpses of humanity’s heritage
of inspiration.
i
The Museum of Jurassic Technology Jubilee Catalogue, (Los Angeles: Society for the
Diffusion of Useful Information Press, 2002), 81
ii
“Ants Viires, the noted Etonian historian, responding in 1975 to Hubble’s view of an
ever-expanding cosmos, wrote in his Puud ja inimesed: puude osast Eesti rehvakulturis,
…Time ravages everything, our person, our experience, our material world. In the
end everything will be lost. In the end there is only the darkness…And despite the
apparent fullness and richness of our lives there is, deposited at the core of each of
us, a seed of this total loss, of this inevitable and ultimate darkness”.
Jubilee Catalogue, 81-2
iii
Lawrence Weschler, Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonder, (New York:Vintage Books,
1996), 50
iv
All Things Considered, “The Museum of Jurassic Technology,” 6 December 1996.
<http://soundportraits.org/on-air/museum_of_jurassic_technology/transcript.php>
v
Leonard Feinstein, Director, Inhaling the Spore, 2004
vi
The Museum of Jurassic Technology Jubilee Catalogue, (Los Angeles: Society for the
Diffusion of Useful Information Press, 2002), 17
vii
Re-phrased from Barbara Maria Stafford, Devices of Wonder, (Los Angeles: The Getty
Research Institute Publications, 2002), 3
viii
S.F.D.U.I, The Common Task (Obshee Delo), 2005
ix
S.F.D.U.I, The Common Task (Obshee Delo), 2005
x
Walter Benjamin, The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction, 1936
xi
University of Southern California, Museum Matters: USC International Museum
Institute and J. Paul Getty Museum Event, 29 July 2011.
xii
David Wilson, Obsession, Compulsion Collection, ed. Anthony Kiendl (Banff Press,
2004).
xiii
Barbara Maria Stafford, Devices of Wonder, (Los Angeles: The Getty Research
Institute Publications, 2002), 4
xiv
David Kelly, Director, Vulgar Knowledge, 2011.<http://vimeo.com/25918205>