Friday's A/C-inspired field trip: The Carnegie Museum
After lunch, Kate, the boys, and I drove back over to Oakland for an afternoon at the Carnegie Museum complex. She and Crispian wanted to go see the new Bog People exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. At only $3 beyond admission price, it is still the cheapest way to see thousands of years-old dead people in this country. The show sounds interesting to me, but also a little creepy. I am debating whether to go or not. I have this thing with human remains, you know? When we were in Prague in the Loretto monastery, I missed something in the tour book before we entered this church. Near one of the side altars, there was what I thought to be a lovely, life-size tableau of some saint's life. Because a tour group was in the church, we couldn't get that close to it to see any real detail. After we left the church I read that it was full skeletal relics, preserved and posed, of two saints. Over their faces were wax masks, but in the photos you can clearly see the skeletons in the arms and legs. Not having read this BEFORE I entered the sanctuary and then making out the skeletons above the side altar, I would have freaked out. Has anyone ever heard some sort of legend about angels appearing to some saint before he repented and they looked like skeletons? Some such story as that?
Anyway, Kate and Crispian enjoyed the Bog People and the forensic exercise as part of the experience. She left some comments about it in a combox at Puritas Corbin.
Myles and I instead paid a visit to the special exhibit on the art side of the museum, Kid Size: The Material World of Childhood. This was an interesting show of children's useful objects designed over time and throughout the world. While the show can be fun for kids (who WILL GET FRUSTRATED after being told they can't touch any of the cool stuff for the 50th time), it is primarily a design show.
The objects are grouped around six themes, such as seating, and sleeping, but with really clever names, like "I Won't Grow Up," "Wynken, Blynken and Nod," and "Who's Been Sitting in my Chair?" Some of the examples are very old, such as a cradle that was used by an infant who came over on the Mayflower (Myles called it a boat), or classic, like an English Pram, or classic to people my age, like the Big Wheel.
Each section had a "Design Moment" that highlighted particularly brilliant design. The Big Wheel was one of them. The Bugaboo Frog stroller was another. This model one of the other moms at the Monday story time refers to as the Gwyneth Paltrow Stroller, as in, "Like I really care about your Gwyneth Paltrow Stroller." Babystyle.com sells these for $729, down from the $1200 they were just two years ago!
Among the chairs, some stood out to me. A lot of the East German-designed children's chairs were designed for a daycare or very early childhood education setting and were specifically constructed to inculcate a sense of community and belonging, and encourage socialization. For instance, instead of conventional high chairs for eating, the 1950s-1990 East German design had three feeding chairs attached to a round table so that all three children could see each other while they ate, or played with toys at the table, or drew. The potty chairs from the same period were all lined up in a close row inside a trough. Here the design of both the feeding/activity chairs and the potties show what the expectations will be of the East German child in adulthood, one who is well socialized, feels a sense of community with those around him, live up to the Communist ideals, really.
There were also some infant-to-toddler walker products from the past 200 years. The most recent examples would be familiar to anyone who has been around kids--an Excer-saucer and a Johnny-Jump-Up. The modern expectation is for the child to build leg strength and cardiovascular health, with the Excer-saucer having the additional benefit of providing the child mental stimulation through the tasks and toys attached. Two hundred years ago, the popular child rearing belief was that crawling was an "animal" tendency, and children should not be permitted to crawl lest they grow to develop more "animal" tendencies. The walkers of that time look like cages and stockades, actually. They do not look like fun, but then again, fun was not an essential part of childhood 200 years ago. One German model allows the child only forward and reverse motion. The others did permit for more range of motion, but only standing. I couldn't find any pictures online to show this, because they really need to be seen to be believed. Kate had seen this show when it opened, and she described them to me. They sounded pretty bad with her usually precise explanations, but seeing was even worse.
The toys were some of the best parts, particularly the toys they also let the kids play with. Play is good. Again, play is something that develops characteristics a particular society expects in its adults. A lot of the high-lighted design products for play, like so many other object groupings in this show, were from Europe. One of the great toys in the show that Myles could play with was the Bilibo from Switzerland.
This toy has no specific purpose. Its beauty is in its ambiguity. Your child can do anything with it, and with them if you can afford multiples. Myles could not get enough of playing with these. He stacked them, sat inside them and spun around, tried to stand on them--you name it. Of course, sucker Mommy had to buy one (only one right now) and already it has already been a helmet and a tunnel for his trains ("Thomas trains" he calls them). What strikes me about this toy, in comparison to other European must-have toys, is that they usually fall on opposite ends of the spectrum. Either they are like this Bilibo, completely unique and ambiguous, allowing the child's imagination to create purpose, or they are like Playmobil (not featured in the Kid Size show, which surprised me a little, because there are interesting design elements to some of the more complicated play sets and it would have made a great contemporary contrast to the Bilibo). Playmobil play sets are so incredibly and sometimes for a parent or aunt that is helping with it painfully detailed. For instance, Crispian has the airplane. The flight attendant's cart includes several teeny tiny milk cartons, teeny tiny juice cartons, and crazy small coffee cups. Extra cartons are stored in a compartment in the galley. Crispian also has the Pirate Ship. Its galley comes equipped with goblets and plates and jugs and a mouse; the ship has two cannons that fire little plastic cannon balls. There is of course pirate's treasure, and a map inside a bottle. Everything is well-defined down to the tiniest detail. So very detailed these Playmobil playsets, the opposite of the Bilibo. Since I know nothing about child psychology or the educative qualities of play, I wonder if these represent warring schools of thought, or more likely, two aspects of play that is meant to be balanced against one another.
I took more movies than I did still photos, so some of the best action is not available for the blog. Myles played with a few toys that were available for play (rather than tantalizing the young with their bright colors and unblemished decals--touch me, play with me, they beckon from their museum stands), most noteworthy the Bilibo and some sort of wheeled riding toy that, again, I can't find any pictures of online that some other child called Mr. Face (there was one in the show that I didn't get to see). He also made one of the art projects--he colored his own paper cradle. It was really cute: he picked out the construction paper color, he chose his markers and reaffirmed with me or the docent the color choice (Green? Green!). He also said which side was the inside and which was the outside, and when it was all done he carried it around proudly.
There were a few other art and project stations within the exhibit, but they were closed early so that they could conduct a staff meeting of the docents--in the same room as the exhibit itself! Some art blogs sometimes decry the commercial approach of museums, where they treat visitors as customers, but darn it all, if I had paid the $10 to get in (I know, a bargain compared to other museums in other cities, but still!), and the exhibit as advertised begins shutting down without notice a full hour before close on some random day, the day I happen to be able to visit, well why wouldn't I be angry? I wasn't, because Myles got to make one of the projects and play with the toys, which technically would have also been shut down for their little meeting except they didn't put the toys away. He is young enough that that was plenty for him. However, if I had Crispian with us, as we sometimes do, he would have been greatly disappointed. And since they decided to have their staff meeting right there in the Heinz Gallery, anyone could see exactly how much business they weren't getting done. It just could have been done better.
And because no post is complete without a smiling child:
Anyway, Kate and Crispian enjoyed the Bog People and the forensic exercise as part of the experience. She left some comments about it in a combox at Puritas Corbin.
Myles and I instead paid a visit to the special exhibit on the art side of the museum, Kid Size: The Material World of Childhood. This was an interesting show of children's useful objects designed over time and throughout the world. While the show can be fun for kids (who WILL GET FRUSTRATED after being told they can't touch any of the cool stuff for the 50th time), it is primarily a design show.
The objects are grouped around six themes, such as seating, and sleeping, but with really clever names, like "I Won't Grow Up," "Wynken, Blynken and Nod," and "Who's Been Sitting in my Chair?" Some of the examples are very old, such as a cradle that was used by an infant who came over on the Mayflower (Myles called it a boat), or classic, like an English Pram, or classic to people my age, like the Big Wheel.
Each section had a "Design Moment" that highlighted particularly brilliant design. The Big Wheel was one of them. The Bugaboo Frog stroller was another. This model one of the other moms at the Monday story time refers to as the Gwyneth Paltrow Stroller, as in, "Like I really care about your Gwyneth Paltrow Stroller." Babystyle.com sells these for $729, down from the $1200 they were just two years ago!
Among the chairs, some stood out to me. A lot of the East German-designed children's chairs were designed for a daycare or very early childhood education setting and were specifically constructed to inculcate a sense of community and belonging, and encourage socialization. For instance, instead of conventional high chairs for eating, the 1950s-1990 East German design had three feeding chairs attached to a round table so that all three children could see each other while they ate, or played with toys at the table, or drew. The potty chairs from the same period were all lined up in a close row inside a trough. Here the design of both the feeding/activity chairs and the potties show what the expectations will be of the East German child in adulthood, one who is well socialized, feels a sense of community with those around him, live up to the Communist ideals, really.
There were also some infant-to-toddler walker products from the past 200 years. The most recent examples would be familiar to anyone who has been around kids--an Excer-saucer and a Johnny-Jump-Up. The modern expectation is for the child to build leg strength and cardiovascular health, with the Excer-saucer having the additional benefit of providing the child mental stimulation through the tasks and toys attached. Two hundred years ago, the popular child rearing belief was that crawling was an "animal" tendency, and children should not be permitted to crawl lest they grow to develop more "animal" tendencies. The walkers of that time look like cages and stockades, actually. They do not look like fun, but then again, fun was not an essential part of childhood 200 years ago. One German model allows the child only forward and reverse motion. The others did permit for more range of motion, but only standing. I couldn't find any pictures online to show this, because they really need to be seen to be believed. Kate had seen this show when it opened, and she described them to me. They sounded pretty bad with her usually precise explanations, but seeing was even worse.
The toys were some of the best parts, particularly the toys they also let the kids play with. Play is good. Again, play is something that develops characteristics a particular society expects in its adults. A lot of the high-lighted design products for play, like so many other object groupings in this show, were from Europe. One of the great toys in the show that Myles could play with was the Bilibo from Switzerland.
This toy has no specific purpose. Its beauty is in its ambiguity. Your child can do anything with it, and with them if you can afford multiples. Myles could not get enough of playing with these. He stacked them, sat inside them and spun around, tried to stand on them--you name it. Of course, sucker Mommy had to buy one (only one right now) and already it has already been a helmet and a tunnel for his trains ("Thomas trains" he calls them). What strikes me about this toy, in comparison to other European must-have toys, is that they usually fall on opposite ends of the spectrum. Either they are like this Bilibo, completely unique and ambiguous, allowing the child's imagination to create purpose, or they are like Playmobil (not featured in the Kid Size show, which surprised me a little, because there are interesting design elements to some of the more complicated play sets and it would have made a great contemporary contrast to the Bilibo). Playmobil play sets are so incredibly and sometimes for a parent or aunt that is helping with it painfully detailed. For instance, Crispian has the airplane. The flight attendant's cart includes several teeny tiny milk cartons, teeny tiny juice cartons, and crazy small coffee cups. Extra cartons are stored in a compartment in the galley. Crispian also has the Pirate Ship. Its galley comes equipped with goblets and plates and jugs and a mouse; the ship has two cannons that fire little plastic cannon balls. There is of course pirate's treasure, and a map inside a bottle. Everything is well-defined down to the tiniest detail. So very detailed these Playmobil playsets, the opposite of the Bilibo. Since I know nothing about child psychology or the educative qualities of play, I wonder if these represent warring schools of thought, or more likely, two aspects of play that is meant to be balanced against one another.
I took more movies than I did still photos, so some of the best action is not available for the blog. Myles played with a few toys that were available for play (rather than tantalizing the young with their bright colors and unblemished decals--touch me, play with me, they beckon from their museum stands), most noteworthy the Bilibo and some sort of wheeled riding toy that, again, I can't find any pictures of online that some other child called Mr. Face (there was one in the show that I didn't get to see). He also made one of the art projects--he colored his own paper cradle. It was really cute: he picked out the construction paper color, he chose his markers and reaffirmed with me or the docent the color choice (Green? Green!). He also said which side was the inside and which was the outside, and when it was all done he carried it around proudly.
There were a few other art and project stations within the exhibit, but they were closed early so that they could conduct a staff meeting of the docents--in the same room as the exhibit itself! Some art blogs sometimes decry the commercial approach of museums, where they treat visitors as customers, but darn it all, if I had paid the $10 to get in (I know, a bargain compared to other museums in other cities, but still!), and the exhibit as advertised begins shutting down without notice a full hour before close on some random day, the day I happen to be able to visit, well why wouldn't I be angry? I wasn't, because Myles got to make one of the projects and play with the toys, which technically would have also been shut down for their little meeting except they didn't put the toys away. He is young enough that that was plenty for him. However, if I had Crispian with us, as we sometimes do, he would have been greatly disappointed. And since they decided to have their staff meeting right there in the Heinz Gallery, anyone could see exactly how much business they weren't getting done. It just could have been done better.And because no post is complete without a smiling child:
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