Yesterday we visited the Wagner Free Institute of Science, located nearby Temple’s campus. I knew very little about the institute prior to this field exercise. I actually live right around the corner, yet I was still unaware of the building’s history and what exactly goes on inside. I was eager to learn more about this landmark in my own neighborhood.
The visit began with a short information session in the lecture hall, where we heard a bit about William Wagner, his vision of free public science education, and the history of the building. I was immediately struck by the seeming authenticity of my surroundings; everything in the lecture hall, with the exception of a television and projector, appeared to be from the 19th century. It was clear to see that the Wagner’s mission to provide science education to the community is not its sole one. Preservation of the building is especially important to the institute as well.
We then walked upstairs to the exhibit hall, which I found to be quite fascinating. It is an impeccably preserved example of a Victorian natural science museum. We browsed aisles of old wood and glass cabinets, gazing at bones, fossils, and animal carcasses, many of them labeled with hand-written notes. The experience felt eccentric, almost whimsical. The curator noted that in the early days of the institute, the collection was not organized at all (“curiosity cabinet” style), but was later organized according to Darwin’s theory of evolution…though it still seemed quite random to me. I noticed that I was not learning much from simply looking at all of the objects. Very little description was provided. It made me wonder if this was William Wagner’s intention. Perhaps he wanted to make visitors realize how little they know about science in order to draw them to the institute’s classes. Or perhaps it was simply the way museums operated in the Victorian age, long before all of the interactive technologies we associate with the science museums of today.
The Wagner is a museum in transition, caught somewhere between a curiosity cabinet and a modern museum, purposely frozen in time. It is meant to show us what museums used to be. It is also an excellent example of how crucial objects’ context and containers are in shaping their meaning. Without the 19th century building, furniture, and display cabinets, the Wagner collection is just a group of one man’s natural oddities. It has very little to communicate to us in the 21st century. However, because of its context, it speaks volumes about the way museums functioned in the Victorian age, and allows visitors to “step back in time” and experience it for ourselves.
