Creatures of Light: Nature's Bioluminescence at the American Museum of Natural History (Central Park West at 79th Street)
Who but the Museum of Natural History, one of New York City’s greatest and longest-existing institutions, would begin an exhibit that is patently about light in the silent, unabashed dark?
Yes, perhaps for our enjoyment more than anything else, the darkness at the entrance to the museum’s new exhibition, Creatures of Light: Nature’s Bioluminescence (running through January 6th), is all-encompassing, but for the glow, at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, of a ten-foot honey mushroom, glowing proudly as if to welcome us, with great pride in its surroundings, to its less-than-humble abode.
Creatures of Light is, unexpectedly, relaxing, and bears resemblance not only to the pinnacle of scientific research that it undoubtedly is but also the quieted office of a psychiatrist. The lights, as mentioned, are dimmed, the better to bring the quiet luster of the surrounding plants and animals (live or otherwise) into focus, and a simple, elegant soundtrack of harp and piano plays unobtrusively over the loudspeaker. It is a symphony for the night, or for the depths of the ocean—the realms that Creatures celebrates, and its subjects seem to flourish within almost as much as, if not more than, they would in their respective natural habitats. The information is fascinating, detailing, as would be expected, the scientific processes, benefits, and flaws of the bioluminescent and fluorescent systems of the world’s living and close to nonliving things; as well as their uses in the natural world. Light, evidently, can serve any message from “Mate with me” to “Don’t eat me, I’m poisonous.” And so many things in the animal world seem to convey both messages.
The Museum of Natural History never fails at whipping up, near from nowhere, special exhibitions that document subjects too diverse to be imagined and yet getting each exactly right. So many museums can try and only succeed occasionally, but it is amazing that there is one that exists—and so close to home, too!—that always, always puts on a show worth visiting, seeing, and recommending to whatever passers-by you may manage to stop on the street post-exhibit and, of course, post-quick brunch jaunt to Isabella’s. Creatures is no exception.
Intricately worked and thrillingly accurate models of jellyfish, overinflated fireflies, millipedes and fish are rendered, immobile but appearing always in motion, overhead. Interactive touchscreens allow tours of the Bloody Bay Wall, a drop-off in Little Cayman, using both white and fluorescent light to detect the beautiful reactions of the coral and fish. And speaking of fish, the museum has no lack of them, either, as the exhibit boasts two tanks full of tiny flashlight fish with eye-pouches full of bioluminescent bacteria. In the darkness one can only see the two “headlights” at the front of the fish’s lithe bodies, darting around uncertainly as if unsure what is expected of
But this is only among the most beautiful displays Creatures has to offer. Near the portion of the hallowed, dark hall exploring Mosquito Bay in Puerto Rico, a so-called Bioluminescent Bay filled with miniature dinoflagellates (millions of which would fit on the head of a pin) that glow when disturbed, there lies a long portion of gently sloping ground immersed in the light show originating above. The dinoflagellates, as tiny points of light, flow down the slope, making it appear a long stretch of shallow water—one that invites wading. (Completing the illusion is the wooden bridge used to enter this section and an overturned boat towards the wall.) Wherever the visitor steps, there the dinoflagellates follow with gusto, glowing brightly and creating a halo around the feet of whomsoever deigns to step on them. Perhaps the folks at the museum could be subjected to a metaphor based on the phenomenon they’ve created here. All they want is for willing learners to flock to their doors and spend a blissful day within. In return, they’ll create something almost unbelievably entertaining and informative—but above all, beautiful.
Yes, perhaps for our enjoyment more than anything else, the darkness at the entrance to the museum’s new exhibition, Creatures of Light: Nature’s Bioluminescence (running through January 6th), is all-encompassing, but for the glow, at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, of a ten-foot honey mushroom, glowing proudly as if to welcome us, with great pride in its surroundings, to its less-than-humble abode.
Creatures of Light is, unexpectedly, relaxing, and bears resemblance not only to the pinnacle of scientific research that it undoubtedly is but also the quieted office of a psychiatrist. The lights, as mentioned, are dimmed, the better to bring the quiet luster of the surrounding plants and animals (live or otherwise) into focus, and a simple, elegant soundtrack of harp and piano plays unobtrusively over the loudspeaker. It is a symphony for the night, or for the depths of the ocean—the realms that Creatures celebrates, and its subjects seem to flourish within almost as much as, if not more than, they would in their respective natural habitats. The information is fascinating, detailing, as would be expected, the scientific processes, benefits, and flaws of the bioluminescent and fluorescent systems of the world’s living and close to nonliving things; as well as their uses in the natural world. Light, evidently, can serve any message from “Mate with me” to “Don’t eat me, I’m poisonous.” And so many things in the animal world seem to convey both messages.
The Museum of Natural History never fails at whipping up, near from nowhere, special exhibitions that document subjects too diverse to be imagined and yet getting each exactly right. So many museums can try and only succeed occasionally, but it is amazing that there is one that exists—and so close to home, too!—that always, always puts on a show worth visiting, seeing, and recommending to whatever passers-by you may manage to stop on the street post-exhibit and, of course, post-quick brunch jaunt to Isabella’s. Creatures is no exception.
Intricately worked and thrillingly accurate models of jellyfish, overinflated fireflies, millipedes and fish are rendered, immobile but appearing always in motion, overhead. Interactive touchscreens allow tours of the Bloody Bay Wall, a drop-off in Little Cayman, using both white and fluorescent light to detect the beautiful reactions of the coral and fish. And speaking of fish, the museum has no lack of them, either, as the exhibit boasts two tanks full of tiny flashlight fish with eye-pouches full of bioluminescent bacteria. In the darkness one can only see the two “headlights” at the front of the fish’s lithe bodies, darting around uncertainly as if unsure what is expected of
But this is only among the most beautiful displays Creatures has to offer. Near the portion of the hallowed, dark hall exploring Mosquito Bay in Puerto Rico, a so-called Bioluminescent Bay filled with miniature dinoflagellates (millions of which would fit on the head of a pin) that glow when disturbed, there lies a long portion of gently sloping ground immersed in the light show originating above. The dinoflagellates, as tiny points of light, flow down the slope, making it appear a long stretch of shallow water—one that invites wading. (Completing the illusion is the wooden bridge used to enter this section and an overturned boat towards the wall.) Wherever the visitor steps, there the dinoflagellates follow with gusto, glowing brightly and creating a halo around the feet of whomsoever deigns to step on them. Perhaps the folks at the museum could be subjected to a metaphor based on the phenomenon they’ve created here. All they want is for willing learners to flock to their doors and spend a blissful day within. In return, they’ll create something almost unbelievably entertaining and informative—but above all, beautiful.
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