Wow. What a difference a couple of weeks makes!
Those of you who are familiar with the museum’s Hall of Ancient Life are aware that the gallery has never really had an official “entrance.” Though the exhibits are arranged in chronological order, while the Paleozoic exhibits were in a Temporary State (since the museum’s opening in 2000), visitors had to find their way to the back of the gallery in order to view them in the right order. Most visitors probably entered the gallery at the Cenozoic (Ice Age) exhibits and went through backward.
Well, yesterday’s tour of the work in progress revealed a new entryway to the Hall of Ancient Life that will change all that.
The crew was working on a terrific, eye-catching entrance to the new Paleozoic gallery that will definitely draw visitors into the exhibits and get them started on their walk through time. Huge models flank either side of the entrance, including the six-foot sea scorpion mentioned earlier, as well as an ammonite, an early reptile and ancient plants. There’s even a fleshed-out model of Deinonychus that turns its head to watch you as you walk in below it!
We spoke with Andrew Jumonville, a fabricator from Chase who was working inside a dimly lit wall niche, laying the ground matrix for a diorama of an underwater scene. He explained to us that when they build dioramas, one of the first things to go in is the lighting. That way, the rest of the scene can be assembled using the light in which it will ultimately be viewed. Because the color and brightness of the lights can have dramatic effects on the way colors appear in the diorama, he has to build the scene to suit the light. What looks blue in white light might look green in the dim, bluish light of the diorama.
Andrew laid on layers of putty to build up the “ocean” floor, working to blend it in as seamlessly as possible with the mural at the back of the diorama. The color of the putty has to match the color on the mural, and sometimes he has to touch up paint to compensate for unwanted shadows.
“It’s the ultimate trompe l’oeil,” he explained. “If you looked at these under regular light, or photographed them with a flash, you would get strange spots where we’ve covered shadows in the diorama.”
In the Permian area, Jessica Western, another Chase fabricator, is up to her elbows in a bucket of dirt-colored goop. She is spreading layers of what looks like spackling putty over a chicken-wire framework around the base of a skeleton, building up the ground form. Behind her, in a row of empty cases, are no fewer than four different types of sharks– fully fleshed models, actually – lying in a row, waiting for installation.
There are more new models, also… things I didn’t expect to see. There’s an octopus. An octopus? There’s an entire cart full of prickly-looking sea creatures and sea grass that looks like it’s caught in a breeze, all bending one way. There’s a four-foot tall pink, corally thing that twists like a giant prickly corn dog.
We peer into one of the nearly-complete dioramas where a host of tiny models have been placed with intense care and artistry in their make-believe world. I asked if there is a drawing or plan for how these things are placed, or if they just grab a tray of models and wing it.
“The only plan is in Terry’s head,” Andrew laughs. Terry Chase is owner of Chase Studio. “We know what specimens have to go in. Terry has an idea of what he wants. Otherwise it’s very organic. When you do a drawing, it’s straight on – two dimensional. But with these, what looks good from one angle might not look right from another, so we have to look at things in a lot of different ways and keep adjusting.”
The final results are breathtaking.