Behind the Dioramas at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science
If You Go
by Melissa Barton

There are leprechauns hiding in the dioramas at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science (DMNS).  Some of them are almost impossible to see, even with binoculars.  You could reach out and touch the most obvious leprechaun, riding an ostrich dinosaur (Ornithomimus velox) in the Cretaceous Creekbed diorama in Prehistoric Journey. 















The leprechauns (sometimes called “elves” or “gnomes”) have flowing white beards and cheerful expressions, and their green and brown clothes camouflage them well—children, however, usually spot them right away, according to volunteer Lael Moe, who sometimes leads the free Secrets of the Dioramas tour on Saturdays.  All but one of the leprechauns is the work of background artist Kent Pendleton, who also “signed” many of his backgrounds by painting a bird of prey in the sky. 

At the Savuti Crossroads diorama of an African waterhole, the museum’s largest; Moe points to the hoofprints in the sand and asks us how we think they were made.  It turns out that people who clean the exhibit wear sandals with “hooves” on the bottom.  But mistakes happen occasionally, and the kids always spot them: Moe says a kid once turned to him and said, “I see a people footprint!”

While children have fun spotting the elves and learning about how the museum took molds of live, sedated crocodiles and made artificial animal feces (real ones attracted insects), adults get a crash course in the evolving art of diorama building and the changes in exhibit design over the past eight decades.

The DMNS’s first dioramas were built in the 1940s and 1950s, and the paleontology dioramas in Prehistoric Journey were completed in the 1990s, so the museum shows the development of the diorama builder’s art beautifully.  The earliest dioramas have more stylized backgrounds and stiff poses.  “A lot of times, they had the animals looking at you, like you interrupted them watching TV,” says Moe.  In the later exhibits, he says, “The idea was to show the animals interacting with each other naturally.” 

The techniques for making foreground elements also changed—the earliest leaves were made with paper and wax, and later leaves were made with acetate and then vinyl.  Sometimes dried plant material can be used for at least parts of the plants.  For example, Moe says, “A prickly pear cactus leaf is made by dipping a foam piece in wax and then sticking real cactus spins on it.”

As we progress through the exhibits from Colorado to Africa, Moe points out how different elements are made.  Grass is plastic, left clear in places to reflect light.  The dust clouds in the impala and cheetah exhibit are airbrushed onto clear acrylic.  “Twice I’ve heard Pendleton remark that this is his favorite diorama because the action starts in the foreground and continues into the background,” says Moe. 

One impala is held in mid-leap by a carefully concealed steel bar attaching it to another impala.  None of the animals in the dioramas are held up by wires, although the bats in one exhibit are suspended on threads so they will move in ambient air currents.















“This stuff is low-tech, but it’s very expensive for a museum to do,” a visitor observes, and Moe agrees.  Aside from paleontology dioramas—which don’t require collecting animals, an ethically problematic practice for modern museums—new wildlife dioramas are rare.  A diorama may take three years and hundreds of thousands of work hours to produce, and require the talents of many foreground and background artists.  The DMNS’s dioramas all represent a real place at a specific time, which meant the museum had to send an expedition to photograph the area, collect plant samples, and in most cases, kill animals for mounting.

The DMNS regularly dusts, maintains, and checks dioramas for insect damage, and the lighting is kept low to minimize impact on the animal mounts.  Once these dioramas are gone, they probably won’t (and in some cases can’t) be replaced.  They provide a valuable glimpse into the past of nature—the passenger pigeon diorama is as close as we can get now to seeing what the extinct birds would have looked like in the wild—and of museums. 

If You Go
Denver Museum of Nature & Science (http://www.dmns.org)
2001 Colorado Blvd., Denver, CO 80205
The Denver Museum of Nature & Science offers exhibits, hands-on activities, and events in the areas of anthropology, geology, health science, paleontology, space science, and zoology.  In addition to paleontology and zoology dioramas, the museum has a large collection of minerals on display, a hands-on space science exhibit, a Discovery Zone (open 10 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. daily) for younger children to explore science through crafts and activities, Egyptian mummies, rotating temporary exhibits, an IMAX theatre, a Planetarium, and much more for families to experience.
Hours: 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. daily
Admission: $10 (adults), $6 children aged 3-18, students, and seniors (65+).  IMAX and Planetarium tickets are extra.  Memberships cost from $40 (individual) to $100 (Family Plus, up to 7 individuals).
Secrets of the Dioramas: The tour meets at the insect display on level one at 12:30 and 2:00 on Saturdays and is free with museum admission.  A handout on how to find the hidden leprechauns and butterflies is available at the information desk.  Volunteer Steve Wagner also maintains a website with further information (http://paleocurrents.com/docs/secrets_of_dioramas.html).

Melissa Barton is a freelance science and travel writer based in Colorado.  Her credits include Geotimes, Transitions Abroad, and the Colorado College Alumni Bulletin.  She makes it a point to visit almost every museum she comes across.  You can visit her on the web at Rosetta Stones Freelancing

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