When Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum opened its doors in 2006 following a three-year redevelopment, its thematic approach, dynamic displays and accessible, visitor-focused interpretation received high acclaim in the museum world. The two million visitors recorded in the remaining six months of that year added to the project’s widely perceived success.
Ten years later, in December 2016, Kelvingrove celebrated the anniversary by reopening the Life Gallery in the museum’s West Court, following a revitalisation of the space. Publicity for the renewed gallery promised family-focused displays, and so my little toddler guinea pigs were duly packed into the car and driven west for a new-look adventure.
On entering the West Court I was relieved to find that the space continues to be dominated by the iconic, recently restored, Spitfire and popular Glasgow resident Sir Roger the elephant, who has been delighting visitors since 1902.
Alongside these much-loved regulars, there are new additions to the animal kingdom, including a leopard, donated to the city by Glasgow Zoo, and a wandering albatross, obtained for Glasgow Museums by the British Antarctic Survey.
The design and feel of the gallery are in keeping with its former appearance, allowing for a seamless link with the galleries that emanate from this central space without causing them to appear dated by comparison.
The displays have been developed following a programme of community consultation, which revealed that visitors wanted to know where and how the animals on display had lived. In response, the museum invites visitors to take a journey around the world from pole to pole, with animals grouped in distinct eco-zones; migratory species that live across more than one region are incorporated too.
In their journey through the space, visitors explore the extremes of distance, climate and habitat, from Antarctica to Australasia – the highest mountains and the deepest oceans, the hottest deserts and the coldest ice caps. These geographically themed displays are effective on two levels. First, they demonstrate an exemplary and practical application of public consultation. Second, they provide a clear visual connection between place and species, which my atlas-loving five-year-old immediately grasped.
The theme of migration requires more explanation but this is provided with a good balance of text, imagery and the draw of seeing the creatures up close. The epic pilgrimage of leatherback turtles across the Pacific, for example, is represented by a large wall-mounted specimen set against a moving image of the ocean. This combination of creature and virtual habitat creates a striking and self-explanatory display, while the accompanying words provide a digestible additional layer of information.
Conservation and species protection are potentially more complex topics but receive the same expertly layered approach to facilitate easy access to content.
An emotional connection
The general approach to interpretation uses Glasgow Museums’ tried-and-tested formula. The text uses few words, which are carefully chosen and include occasional examples of humour and questioning so as to be accessible and engaging without becoming predictable, tokenistic or tiresome.
The words carry impact and allow for an emotional connection; they range from humorous explorations of, for example, the exhausting nest-building and mating rituals of the Australasia-based male bowerbird to more serious, thought-provoking explorations of conservation issues. Alongside the stimulating and accessible panels and labels are touchscreen interactives and films that show the museum’s motionless, glassy-eyed specimens live and dangerous in their natural habitat.
The philosophy behind the reimagined Kelvingrove in 2006 was to remove physical and intellectual barriers between the museum and its visitors wherever possible. Objects were put on open display, and though technically out of touching distance, some plinths resembled steps or seats, resulting in the security and condition of objects being compromised.
As part of the redevelopment of the space, therefore, the museum has introduced low-level metal barriers, glass partitions and some cases. A museum attendant explained that this was necessary to prevent toddlers from climbing on the plinths. I nodded solemnly, while witnessing an altercation between my husband and our youngest son, who was intent on getting up close and personal with a totem pole.
While I was saddened to see the loss of the old open displays that so effectively maximised access to the collections, I am painfully aware of how the speed, strength and steely determination of a toddler can outmanoeuvre even the most hawk-eyed companion. The condition and security of the collection has to be paramount, and a fair compromise appears to have been reached here.
There is a need for some snagging in the Life Gallery: a couple of touchscreens were out of order, and a few labels did not seem to relate to the nearest item (one about a peacock was positioned in front of a tiger). And I would have appreciated an explanatory label on some of the interactives, as well as a running time for the films, which is always useful for those on a tight schedule or trying to engage a curious but impatient child.
However, with its combination of sensible geographical groupings, striking imagery, concisely written text and the universal draw of animals and birds that do not run away when approached by excitable, noisy children, the museum fulfils its promise of providing family-friendly displays.
My sons, aged five and two, ran excitedly between the exhibits, identifying the animals they recognised and enquiring about those that were less familiar. My eldest, who is currently learning to read, was delighted to find that he could understand some of the labels, igniting his curiosity with a tirade of questions including, “How did the animals die?”, “Did the museum kill them?” and “Do animals still poo after they die?” It came as a relief when his rapid-fire questions ended with “Is there a cafe here?”
And so an animated, inspired and stimulated family continued its museum adventure, this time in search of cake.
Mary Stones is a freelance interpretation consultant
We split the space into eight distinct areas, based on these different eco-zones and selected one or two stories for each one.
High and Steep, for example, looks at animals associated with mountains and cliffs from the Palaearctic eco-zone, comprising Eurasia north of the Himalayas; while Surviving the Winter and Escaping the Cold are about choices animals have to make in the Nearctic eco-zone (North America, up to and including Greenland). They either stay and brave the cold, or decide to move somewhere warmer.
We were keen to get out some of our best taxidermy, including a gannet diorama by Glasgow taxidermist Charles Kirk (1872-1922). There is also a golden eagle diorama by another great British taxidermist, Peter Spicer (1839-1935).
We have deliberately kept the light levels on the eagle nice and low to avoid it fading, but this has made it difficult to see properly – an issue we are intending to address soon.
We have also had new specimens mounted especially for the gallery, including a leopard, a Pallas’s cat (a small wild cat), a cotton-top tamarin monkey, some Arctic terns and a wandering albatross, which were paid for by donations from the public after a special fundraising appeal.
The albatross is in the display about Antarctica, which was developed in conjunction with the RSPB, one of the Kelvingrove’s partners. This bird died in 2007 and was shipped back to Glasgow from Antarctica especially for the museum by the British Antarctic Survey.
Richard Sutcliffe is the research manager (natural sciences) at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum in Glasgow
Main funders Friends of Glasgow Museums; public fundraising campaign; Glasgow Museums Patrons
Exhibition design In-house
Interpretation In-house
Graphic design In-house
Display cases In-house
Lighting In-house
Admission Free
Ten years later, in December 2016, Kelvingrove celebrated the anniversary by reopening the Life Gallery in the museum’s West Court, following a revitalisation of the space. Publicity for the renewed gallery promised family-focused displays, and so my little toddler guinea pigs were duly packed into the car and driven west for a new-look adventure.
On entering the West Court I was relieved to find that the space continues to be dominated by the iconic, recently restored, Spitfire and popular Glasgow resident Sir Roger the elephant, who has been delighting visitors since 1902.
Alongside these much-loved regulars, there are new additions to the animal kingdom, including a leopard, donated to the city by Glasgow Zoo, and a wandering albatross, obtained for Glasgow Museums by the British Antarctic Survey.
The design and feel of the gallery are in keeping with its former appearance, allowing for a seamless link with the galleries that emanate from this central space without causing them to appear dated by comparison.
The displays have been developed following a programme of community consultation, which revealed that visitors wanted to know where and how the animals on display had lived. In response, the museum invites visitors to take a journey around the world from pole to pole, with animals grouped in distinct eco-zones; migratory species that live across more than one region are incorporated too.
In their journey through the space, visitors explore the extremes of distance, climate and habitat, from Antarctica to Australasia – the highest mountains and the deepest oceans, the hottest deserts and the coldest ice caps. These geographically themed displays are effective on two levels. First, they demonstrate an exemplary and practical application of public consultation. Second, they provide a clear visual connection between place and species, which my atlas-loving five-year-old immediately grasped.
The theme of migration requires more explanation but this is provided with a good balance of text, imagery and the draw of seeing the creatures up close. The epic pilgrimage of leatherback turtles across the Pacific, for example, is represented by a large wall-mounted specimen set against a moving image of the ocean. This combination of creature and virtual habitat creates a striking and self-explanatory display, while the accompanying words provide a digestible additional layer of information.
Conservation and species protection are potentially more complex topics but receive the same expertly layered approach to facilitate easy access to content.
An emotional connection
The general approach to interpretation uses Glasgow Museums’ tried-and-tested formula. The text uses few words, which are carefully chosen and include occasional examples of humour and questioning so as to be accessible and engaging without becoming predictable, tokenistic or tiresome.
The words carry impact and allow for an emotional connection; they range from humorous explorations of, for example, the exhausting nest-building and mating rituals of the Australasia-based male bowerbird to more serious, thought-provoking explorations of conservation issues. Alongside the stimulating and accessible panels and labels are touchscreen interactives and films that show the museum’s motionless, glassy-eyed specimens live and dangerous in their natural habitat.
The philosophy behind the reimagined Kelvingrove in 2006 was to remove physical and intellectual barriers between the museum and its visitors wherever possible. Objects were put on open display, and though technically out of touching distance, some plinths resembled steps or seats, resulting in the security and condition of objects being compromised.
As part of the redevelopment of the space, therefore, the museum has introduced low-level metal barriers, glass partitions and some cases. A museum attendant explained that this was necessary to prevent toddlers from climbing on the plinths. I nodded solemnly, while witnessing an altercation between my husband and our youngest son, who was intent on getting up close and personal with a totem pole.
While I was saddened to see the loss of the old open displays that so effectively maximised access to the collections, I am painfully aware of how the speed, strength and steely determination of a toddler can outmanoeuvre even the most hawk-eyed companion. The condition and security of the collection has to be paramount, and a fair compromise appears to have been reached here.
There is a need for some snagging in the Life Gallery: a couple of touchscreens were out of order, and a few labels did not seem to relate to the nearest item (one about a peacock was positioned in front of a tiger). And I would have appreciated an explanatory label on some of the interactives, as well as a running time for the films, which is always useful for those on a tight schedule or trying to engage a curious but impatient child.
However, with its combination of sensible geographical groupings, striking imagery, concisely written text and the universal draw of animals and birds that do not run away when approached by excitable, noisy children, the museum fulfils its promise of providing family-friendly displays.
My sons, aged five and two, ran excitedly between the exhibits, identifying the animals they recognised and enquiring about those that were less familiar. My eldest, who is currently learning to read, was delighted to find that he could understand some of the labels, igniting his curiosity with a tirade of questions including, “How did the animals die?”, “Did the museum kill them?” and “Do animals still poo after they die?” It came as a relief when his rapid-fire questions ended with “Is there a cafe here?”
And so an animated, inspired and stimulated family continued its museum adventure, this time in search of cake.
Mary Stones is a freelance interpretation consultant
Focus on: display
We decided early on that we wanted to make best use of our extensive world-wide natural history collections. After a public consultation we decided to base the redisplay on eco-zones (geographical regions that have a distinct biodiversity of flora and fauna), although we don’t actually say this explicitly in the gallery. We split the space into eight distinct areas, based on these different eco-zones and selected one or two stories for each one.
High and Steep, for example, looks at animals associated with mountains and cliffs from the Palaearctic eco-zone, comprising Eurasia north of the Himalayas; while Surviving the Winter and Escaping the Cold are about choices animals have to make in the Nearctic eco-zone (North America, up to and including Greenland). They either stay and brave the cold, or decide to move somewhere warmer.
We were keen to get out some of our best taxidermy, including a gannet diorama by Glasgow taxidermist Charles Kirk (1872-1922). There is also a golden eagle diorama by another great British taxidermist, Peter Spicer (1839-1935).
We have deliberately kept the light levels on the eagle nice and low to avoid it fading, but this has made it difficult to see properly – an issue we are intending to address soon.
We have also had new specimens mounted especially for the gallery, including a leopard, a Pallas’s cat (a small wild cat), a cotton-top tamarin monkey, some Arctic terns and a wandering albatross, which were paid for by donations from the public after a special fundraising appeal.
The albatross is in the display about Antarctica, which was developed in conjunction with the RSPB, one of the Kelvingrove’s partners. This bird died in 2007 and was shipped back to Glasgow from Antarctica especially for the museum by the British Antarctic Survey.
Richard Sutcliffe is the research manager (natural sciences) at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum in Glasgow
Project data
Cost £123,750Main funders Friends of Glasgow Museums; public fundraising campaign; Glasgow Museums Patrons
Exhibition design In-house
Interpretation In-house
Graphic design In-house
Display cases In-house
Lighting In-house
Admission Free