[ science/nature ]
Every time she sees the puma behind the rock waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting mule deer on the other side, Jennifer Sontchi feels an urge to warn the soon-to-be prey. "You just want to say, 'Run away!'" says Sontchi, the Academy of Natural Sciences' acting exhibits director. She waves a hand at the blank-eyed deer in their perpetually threatened stance. "Nothing ever happens, they're still there every morning, but the tension is remarkable."
None of that tension is accidental, and neither is a single pebble, leaf or footprint. That's the message to be gleaned from "Secrets of the Diorama," a new permanent exhibit that lifts the curtain on the Academy's perennially popular displays. Installed as part of the museum's bicentennial celebrations, the small exhibition space reveals how and why the arresting animal tableaux were created.
"The idea at the time was to transport people to places they couldn't go," Sontchi says of the dioramas. They were crafted between the '20s and the '40s, in the days before television and the Internet could give up-close-and-personal views of far-off landscapes. "These places and animals were completely exotic."
Naturally, the nation's first natural history museum was a product of its time, which the dioramas reflect. Take the majestic gorilla family, the father striding protectively forward, the mother a few steps behind with a nurturing eye on the baby of the family, picking at berries. "This is not really the most natural position for these animals," Sontchi admits. "People wanted to see what they believed, that they were vicious creatures — not humble vegetarians, which is what they are. ... We're all part of our own culture, and along with that comes all of our cultural baggage."
That larger context is mostly outside the parameters of the 300-square-foot exhibit, which is mainly meant to answer questions that frequently get asked — yes, those were once real live animals — and to spotlight the art and labor that went into creating these dramatic displays. Photos from expeditions show how each painted background was copied from an actual location; a study of the materials used to make plants, rocks and soil reveals that every detail was carefully researched and built by hand; and a spinning model antelope displays the guts of the stuffed animals.
The dioramas are a remnant of a long-gone age, yet they still enthrall (and sometimes terrify) kids raised on more high-tech marvels. "We want to keep it contemplative and reverent and not have all these bells and whistles," says Sontchi. "We're hoping to keep what makes us special and unique while moving forward into our third century, to not just rip everything out and become the Franklin Institute. [The dioramas] were meant to bring the world to people, and I think they still do."
"Secrets of the Diorama," ongoing, $12, Academy of Natural Sciences, 1900 Benjamin Franklin Parkway, 215-299-1000, ansp.org.
