The New Bell Museum

I learned it on a Byrds album. "Turn, turn, turn." There is a time for nostalgia, and a time for facing facts.

The new Bell Museum is much better that the old Bell. The best parts of the old Bell—the dioramas—were disassembled, cleaned, and brought along to the new building, where they were placed in rooms much more congenial to them than their old settings.

The old Bell Museum: nowhere to park!

The halls of the old Bell were made of stone with linoleum floors (later carpeted). They were brightly lit and echoed the voices of school groups all too well. I remember visiting with my third grade class back in 1961. My teacher, Mrs. Richter (later Mrs. Haas), must have thought I was one of the sharper kids: she encouraged me to ask the tour guide if bears were carnivorous or herbivorous.  

A hall at the old Bell

Years later, I gave tours at the Bell myself. I knew almost nothing about natural history, but I'd spent quite a bit of time in the woods, and somehow I got by.

The halls of the new Bell are more like spaces than halls. They're dimly lit, and large murals of trees hang from the rafters, which gives them a warm, outdoorsy feel, while also helping the dioramas shine all the more. These spaces also contain plenty of Plexiglas kiosks focusing on mussels, plant communities, mushrooms, individual bird and mammal species, and more abstract ecological concepts. Everywhere you turn, there's something new to learn. It's exhausting.

It was only with the greatest effort that I made it all the way to the woolly mammoth exhibit. I was pleased to sit on a bench in a little theater in the northeast corner of the building and listen to photographer Jim Brandenburg's soporific voice describe his development from prairie farm boy to North Woods wolf photographer.

We skipped the astronomy, geology, and genetics halls entirely. They can wait for another time. As can the planetarium and the huge new touch-and-see room, which seems to occupy half of the first floor.

In the midst of all the talent and taste that went into this masterpiece, I noticed only one glaring defect. A huge concrete sundial sits right on the middle of the parking lot, taking up at least eight parking spaces. Meanwhile, the lot is often full and eager visitors are directed to an overflow lot three blocks away.