Natural History Museum

@PVC King wrote:

The choice is simple either go back to the bad old days of museums getting funding when it is available or allow the culture industry to act like a business. In terms of extending the provision from the under 18’s / third level students there could be an angle in developing a ‘social solidarity card’ to grant rights of admission plus say off peak travel on public transport etc to pensioners, unemployed etc. The last decade has seen dramatic capacity enhancements across a number of areas in the public services; not all of this capacity is currenty being utilised. This being a uniquely Irish piece of social thinking would unless copied (unlikely) result in the objective of tourist revenue being collected to pay for the benefits derived from our cultural assets being acheived.

The very notion that I should have to pay to see collections of which I am co-owner is absurd and offensive. Charge for non-Irish citizens if you like, but I don’t see anybody paying what will inevitably be about €10 to get into the National Gallery.

I think the recent crisis of capitalism should be a caution against market-led approaches; by all means sell ‘souvenirs’ and have a cafe, but admission should be free.

@PVC King wrote:

There is a large difference between being a passive funder in the form of taxation and making a conscious effort to buy into something i.e. become ‘a freind of’ a cultural institution. Having been in a situation where there was a differential pricing model at a gallery where the locals paid little and as a tourist you paid a full price it leaves a sour taste which risks losing potential return visits.

As public finances tighten further there iare real risks that the support services underpining all cultural assets will be cut and the ability to aqcuire important items that typical exchange between private collectors on a 30 -50 year cycle could be lost.

Moving into line with most European countries is inevitable due to economic circumstances; however when you look at Parisian museums and galleries and what they have acheived with their income streams it is hard to knock the paid entry route.

I do however think that there needs to be a social balance and in that regard I think the idea of a national solidarity card would give the government a great deal of scope to ensure that access is not denied on the basis of economic disadvantage.

John you clearly don’t buy into markets but you have to admit that the only reason the UK can raise money on bond markets is that the deficit has been controlled until 2008; if business approaches aren’t taken to government quickly the UK will become the new Greece because like any household you can only borrow what you don’t earn for a while; if you continue to borrow you need to spend more and more money paying ever increasing levels of interest.

Giving museums a chance to raise their own revenue really is the best form of self help and enables very specialist staff who make a very valuable contribution to remain in stable employment which many would describe as ‘their lifes work’. Protect them.

memo to WHO:

Serious oubreak of virulent strain of jargonophrenia in London. Cure urgently needed.

PVC: You’re quite right to point out the dire state of the public (and private) finances in both Ireland and the UK (listening to some commentators, you’d think we all need to revert to some kind of pre-industrial existence). I never ignore the market, nor would I wish it away, but the importance of continued access to cultural assets in a recession should not be underestimated.
Perhaps the key is to push the ‘voluntary contributions’ element; even an average of a couple of euros per visitor would bring in some useful revenue – based on the ‘if you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you’ principle.

I don’t think everyone is necessarily in disagreement here. There are countless ways of charging for entry while also retaining an element of free access for all. In addition to a card/friend/member method, there is also the simple system that operates in a number of cities where the museum is just free at weekends, or a designated weekday, or Sunday afternoons, or whatever. I think this is the most successful way of ensuring open access while also generating revenue for most of the year. I don’t for a moment buy that these are ‘national collections and must be free to view’. Virtually every State site across the island charges for access to maintain upkeep. The museums, by their very unique and broad-ranging nature must maintain universal access, but still should have the option of sustaining themselves in an equitable manner.

To return to the topic in hand, as noted by publicrealm above, it is not until you step inside the Natural History Museum that the magical qualities of the institution are vividly evoked once more. You do indeed spend the entire time there smiling broadly, and continue to do so for much of the rest of the day. The combination of weird and wonderful exhibits, fusty, mellow Victorian interiors, and raucous hoards of children makes for an unforgettable experience. This is truly an institution of international significance.

Once the geological and zoological collection of the Royal Dublin Society, all of the material of the Museum was formerly housed in Leinster House itself, before a design competition was initiated in 1851 for a new museum building to formally display the thousands of gathered artefacts. This process was promptly stopped when State funding would only be forthcoming on the basis of designs being furnished by the Board of Works – presumably they knowing best in the fickle field of cutting costs. In any event it was a happy occurrance, as the architect, the Board of Works’ Surveyor of Works and Buildings, Frederick Villiers Clarendon, was more than competent as executor of designs for the new building, having successfully extended the Royal Irish Academy around the corner on Dawson Street with a reading room and vast library in the years immediately prior to works on Leinster Lawn.

His design is noble in its simplicity of form, elegance of detail, and deft handling of the practical requirements of an institution that turns its back on the outside world to shield its delicate collections within. It is a much under-rated building, a stoical, but in its own way cheerful, palazzo design that sits quietly and unobtrusively skirting the southern flank of Leinster Lawn.

Rapidly built between March 1856 and August 1857, what makes the Natural History Museum of particular interest is that all is not quite what it was intended to be. To the modern-day visitor, the Museum is a stand-alone institution with a grandiose entrance addressing Merrion Square. Its design intention was quite the opposite. What Villers Clarendon conceived was a decorous sarcophagus exclusively serving Leinster House: its positioning adjacent to Merrion Square was entirely incidental. Indeed, the building makes no acknowledgement of the existence of the square whatsoever, set back a considerable distance from the street line and devoid of a ceremonial facade. We must bear in mind that the National Gallery had yet to be built, while the site of Government Buildings was a terrace of townhouses. The Museum was little more than a garden folly discreetly tucked away on Leinster Lawn.

As seen above, as originally designed, there was no entrance to the Museum from Merrion Square. The intention was to provide access to the building from Kildare Street via Leinster House – essentially an extension to the growing complex the RDS was building for itself in and around the 18th century mansion.

Here we can see the Museum’s connection with the main house via a curved screen wall (the lecture theatre in the middle, now the Dáil Chamber, would not arrive until the 1890s).

A current map view of the original connection.

As a result, the primary staircase and entrance hall is at the back of the building, while the front – now the principal entrance, installed in 1909 – goes unacknowledged by way of internal architectural treatment.

The southern exterior wall of the Museum, which can be well appreciated from inside the private laneway running alongside Government Buildings, is little more than rubble limestone with brick-lined window opes.

This is where the proposed new sliver of a glass extension was recently proposed to accommodate access provision to the upper floors, a café and a shop.

The Portland stone carvings dressing the walls of granite ashlar are of a surprisingly high standard and charmingly themed on the natural world. The cornice and frieze is outstandingly detailed, while the linear panels above the pedimented niches show a variety of subjects.

The central panel depicts Neptune flanked by two dolphins.

The entire facade, along with that of the National Gallery opposite, was cleaned by the OPW about three years ago – quite the revelation of polychromy that went largely unnoticed by the public. Here it is back in 1994 as photographed by Jacqueline O’Brien.

The delightful array of cabinets of curiosities that greets the entrant.

Just fabulous. Where would you find it?

I suspect the flooring, complete with heating grills concealing a pair of large water pipes, is an adaptation of the late 1880s or early 1900s. But what a beguiling atmosphere it generates.

Looking from the back of the room over the insect displays towards the front, we get out first wide perspective on the ground floor exhibition hall. The massive weight of the upper floor is supported on the parallel rows of cast iron columns to the sides, and four intermediary columns in the middle of the hall which hold the weight of the wide span floor above.

If there is a single disappointing aspect to this room, it is the lighting, which is grim and a bit depressing (more so than seen here). Compared with the warmth of Jacqueline O’Brien’s perspective from 1994, we have a colder environment today with the new florescent strip lighting.

Changing the pungent yellow on the walls may actually improve matters, as the contrast is too great. A more subtle colour would yield a more mellow environment all round.

The displays are, as ever, a fascination. Beuatifully maintained by the Museum.

Annnnd so we come to ‘it’.

The infamous Portland stone cantilevered staircase to the rear of the building has been beautifully restored and the stairhall redecorated. What a handsome space it is, with its Venetian window that overlooks the rear of Government Buildings.

We have relatively few public interiors in Dublin from the 1850s. Here we can see nice vestiges of Regency detailing.

Aside from the occasional “there’s the stairs that COLLAPSED!”, most people clambered up its steps unawares of its recent history.

Typically frothy Victorian cast-iron balustrade with mahogany handrail. Very nice indeed.

The fine ceiling, with beautifully chosen colours.

Do we really need to make a feature of smoke detectors through?

The wonderfully robust doorcase providing access to the first floor exhibition hall.

As can be seen to the left, this is another compromised space that still requires resolution as part of the museum masterplan.

It is especially true of its equivalent door immediately beneath on the ground floor. This is the main entrance from the ground floor hall into the stairhall.

As the eagle-eyed will have noticed earlier, the balustrade has had to be extended on the first floor to make it compliant. A chrome rail with tailor-made moulded feet was made to fit around the original handrail to minimise the impact on the historic fabric.

A shame the same cannot be said of the visual impact. A slender bronze-coloured rail, as used all over the building around exhibits, would have worked so much better. There is no need to declare a contemporary intervention from the rooftops in a situation like this.

Why good afternoon sir.

The poor aul rocks are sitting forgotton under the windows in beautifully designed cases. Someone take an interest, please! Could you create any more of a forlorn scene if you tried? (yes okay, the sash cord may have been institutionally ‘arranged’)

The Museum’s geology room was demolished in the 1960s to create the huge slab (lavatory) office block for TDs beside Leinster House and has yet to be replaced. One suspects we shall be waiting a while longer.

Back to the cute stuff. All together now…

ahhhhhhh

One feels for the unfortunate individual came across those chappies lying flat on their backs.

The Natural History Museum is one of those rare, if indeed otherwise nonexistent, places where adults and children unite in complete fascination. It is wonderful to see kids fully engaged and completely happy in a public environment – such a rare sight these days. There wasn’t a disgruntled child to be seen in the entire building. Though a disgruntled photographer perhaps, given I have never in my life had to make so many retakes, with virtually every shot like this…

…starting out like this.

Great fun though. Truly, this is an institution of which Dublin can be absolutely proud. Indeed, this attraction is without question the foremost memory most visitors will have of being in Dublin. It is that critical to the success of the city in attracting international tourism – I cannot believe how we never heard a peep of encouragement from the various tourist authorities the whole time it was closed for works. Well actually, I can.

At last a unique relic of Dublin is back open to its citizens, who in their own way take more from it, and from their sense of inheritance and ownership over it, than any visitor could. A classic weekend destination with the grandparents is usually the best introduction to its treasures. Long may it continue.

@Global Citizen wrote:

What a wonderful study. Beautifully described and photographed.
Well done Graham. You have surpassed yourself yet again.

+1.
Thank you!
K.

+3
As always Graham your reportage is much appreciated.