A small child approaches a grand museum, holding the hand of their father or mother. They climb up a gazillion steps to the impressive façade, go in, and enter a humongous hall where there is an airplane hanging, a ginormous mastodon, soaring windows, and gleaming marble.
Imposing? Frightening? Nope. How about memorable? Awesome? Dazzling?
While museums have really "cool things" in them, and fun activities that promote learning and engagement, sometimes the most memorable thing isn’t the stuff or the activities, but the grand building that houses it all.
As we have been sharing in recent posts, in our most recent national study of museum-goers, we asked our adult respondents to think back to their early childhood museum memories and share them with us. For some adults, the scale and scope of museum buildings is what sticks with them, as seen in the following memories:
- "We visited the Smithsonian Museums when we lived in that area. I remember the vastness of the building, and exhibits hanging from the ceiling."
- "Museum of Fine Art, Boston. Loved the grand building and so many paintings and sculptures, just the huge space for many beautiful things..."
- "Natural history museum. Was dazzled by the building itself . . ."
Interestingly, this is not something isolated to museum memories. In a not-yet-released study we conducted earlier in the year for a group of public libraries, we asked the same question about early childhood library memories. Again, we saw a significant number of memories about the scale of buildings:
- "It smelled wonderful. Like old books and wood. There were large glass windows and high, high ceilings. The books went on forever!"
- "I remember thinking that the library was so huge - even then I was impressed with the heavy, grand architecture. I liked the smell of the books and the paper, almost intoxicating. My teacher helped me borrow children's books. To me, the library has always been a safe, comforting, homey and cozy place where people treat one another with respect for the love of learning."
Yet grandeur and scale doesn’t necessarily translate to cold and forbidding for children, as the second library quote indicates. Indeed, nearly all of the building memories were quite positive, and in that library memory the hugeness was still always “safe, comforting, homey, and cozy.”
Many of the library memories were of small-town libraries or library branches, not iconic downtown libraries. Similarly, a museum doesn’t have to have huge domes or vast hallways. It could, instead, be a small museum, in a small town:
- "It was one of the earliest buildings in my home town. There was an antique grandfather clock and black and white marble flooring. You could stand and look quietly, and let your imagination soar."
Of course, the memories we collected were from adults whose childhoods largely predate the boom in modern architectural additions to museums, and therefore largely consist of traditional museum architecture. While there were a handful of memories of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum in New York City, only time will tell how how youngsters today remember modern museums and additions.
What do you think? To share, simply click on “comments” below. (If you are reading this from your e-mail subscription to the blog, please go to our blog's website to add a comment.)
Photo Courtesy: The Franklin Insitute
One of my strongest childhood museum memories is of being on a field trip with my school at the National Gallery and seeing the beautiful waterfall fountain behind the glass wall in the cafeteria. (I don't know if this qualifies as an architectural feature or art, but I associate it more with the building itself.)
I'm not sure why that image stuck, but I remember thinking it was really cool. I had spent time in museums before, but I don't think I'd ever EATEN in one, and I think I felt very elegant and grown-up. Maybe the novelty of that plus the beauty of the waterfall turned into something very memorable.
Posted by: Ida | November 10, 2010 at 03:08 PM
I wonder whether "architectural memories" tend to happen in places people visit once, or just a few times?
Posted by: Paul Orselli | November 11, 2010 at 08:48 AM
Good question, Paul. For the libraries it was definitely a regular occurrence. And the last museum memory did come from that individual's hometown, so perhaps he/she went there on a somewhat regular basis, hard to say.
But for the museums? There is always the factor of being wowed by something not seen before, like a great building.
And Ida - elegance and feeling grown up? Totally see that in memories. Museums tend to make children feel more "adult." I like it!
Thanks for both comments.
Posted by: Susie Wilkening, Reach Advisors | November 11, 2010 at 10:00 AM
I'm sure I'm far from the only person, but I have a particular fondness for the elephant in the Rotunda at the SI National Museum of Natural History. Even now, I always stop in to say "hi" when I'm there.
I also loved the planes hanging from the ceiling in Air and Space. I think they key to both of these is in one of the quotes above: "let your imagination soar." In NMNH, I could get much closer to an elephant than at the zoo or circus, likewise with the planes. It was like a window into another world, and as a kid it's very easy to sneak out a window with your imagination.
Posted by: Megan B. | November 18, 2010 at 10:14 AM
Museums have always been commended for its architectural design and classic interiors. Before having this kind of magnificent building, fall arrest roof anchors are installed so that workers will stay out of danger while working. The fall restraint tools are also used for added protection. That's why building workers are always safe while making these kinds of building.
Posted by: Brian Vancleve | February 13, 2011 at 09:30 PM