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Going gallery-by-gallery through the Walt Disney Family Museum: Part III

Picking up where we left off with Part II of this series: The Walt Disney Family Museum opened on October 1st in San
Francisco
’s historic Presidio. The $110 million museum explores the life,
family, and accomplishments of Walt Disney, the man, in an attempt to restore
the “Walt” to “Walt Disney.”

The first two-thirds of the museum explore Disney’s life and
accomplishments through a mix of traditional display cases and a smattering of
multimedia displays that help explain various periods from different angles and
perspectives.

The Walt Disney Family Foundation chose New York’s Rockwell
Group
to design the interior spaces of the museum. Rockwell, whose projects
include Jet Blue’s JFK terminal and the 81st Academy Awards, artfully succeed
at using multiple styles of exhibit design to give an encompassing view of
Walt’s life—their use of architecture and space mimic what it may have been
like to experience Walt’s life as if you were Walt. (Not unlike Disney’s own concept for his Fantasyland rides in Disneyland in 1955, where you become the central character.)

Photo by Brad Aldridge

At the end of Part II of this series, we began the voyage into the 1950s.
The transition is perfectly captured in “Walt and the Natural World” (Gallery
8). It’s a hallway that is decorated differently on its two long walls. One
side displays monitors and props from the “True Life Adventures” series as well
as “People and Places.” The other wall consists of floor to ceiling windows
that display a breathtaking view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate
Bridge.

This hallway is calmer than the rest of the gallery—the
contrast is noticeable and necessary for what happens around the corner: A
huge, two storied open room that covers all of Disney’s activity from roughly
1952 to 1966.

As any Disneyphile can tell you, that period was an explosive
time for Walt Disney Productions: live-action films, television, Disneyland,
WED, Audio-Animatronics, the 1964-65 New York World’s Fair, EPCOT, Walt Disney
World
—the list goes on.

This one room is so filled it’s overwhelming—again,
Rockwell’s design mimics the feeling of the times. The creative burst from Walt
Disney and his team in the 1950s & 1960s is exponential; many separate
projects happening at the same time lead to an even greater breakthrough, and
on and on. The room feels more like an artists studio, source material and work
scattered throughout in a way where you must stand back to see the oeuvre.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

As the excitement of the room sinks in, Disney’s miniature
backyard train, The Lilly Belle, sits on a small track adjacent to a slanted
walkway we use to descend into the gallery. Trains arguably start Walt’s
transition from animation and film into the creation of Disneyland. Disney
built his backyard railroad, The Carolwood Pacific Railway, in and around his
Holmby Hills property: an architectural model of the train route hangs from the
ceiling on its side, and it’s actually moving.

Quickly, displays on the handrails of the ramp detail
Disneyland’s development—this seems to be covered far more lightly than many
other historical moments of Disneyana in the museum. As we descend, we’re
hypnotized by an amazing sphere that is covered in projected images (eight
projectors total) which visualize all the ’50s and ’60s activity together,
furthering the cumulative relationship of everything in the last 15 years of
Walt’s life.

The treat of this room is a 13-foot scale model of Disneyland. The detail is remarkable.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

The model is an imaginative version of Disneyland as Walt imagined it would eventually evolve. So the park exists in no particular time period: Tomorrowland is a mixture of now and then. Flying Saucers sit next to a massive Walt Disney World style indoor-outdoor Space Mountain.

The care and detail go down the foliage and leaves that lay
nearby the miniature Disneyland Railroad—which moves around the model. This
unique view of Disneyland was crafted by Kerner Optical along with Walt Disney
Imagineering executive Tony Baxter and former Imagineer Geoff Puckett of
EffectDesign, Inc. The love, care, and knowledge of these craftsmen glows off
this miniature magic kingdom—many ride show buildings are exposed revealing
detailed scenes, every light fixture on every lamp on Main Street is illuminated,
and there is even a single white horse on the carousel.

Instead of being a simple, static model, there are monitors
embedded into the railings surrounding that detail each land, much like the Disneyland TV show. As the land is introduced, the lighting configuration of the model refocuses on the respected
land. This multimedia effect perfectly links Disneyland and the growth of
television and Walt Disney’s TV persona.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

Moving farther down the gallery, facing the Disneyland model, is a monument to Disney on television, a wall of 1950s and ’60s era TVs plays a long, continuous loop of footage from Disneyland & The Wonderful World of Color. Walt Disney himself leads us on trips through Disneyland, outer space and color TV. The arrangement of the monitors mixed with the kaleidoscopic editing make for an overview of Disney-TV that illustrates how Walt truly mastered the medium, not only as a storytelling tool, but also as a way to drive interest in his own
projects and ideas.

This room clearly presents Disney as a “genius” or “visionary.” Everything here is grand and new. The entire space explains how Walt’s life and work led to this burst of creative output. It’s an astounding room, but the downside is that by cramming so much into one place, it runs the risk of homogenizing the true greatness of this 15-year period. So many things sit right next to one another: Sleeping Beauty
next to The Mickey Mouse Club, Mary Poppins
next to the 1964-65 New York World’s Fair next to EPCOT next
to the 1960 Winter Olympics, and so on.

But this is where my geek should be quiet. To a devout Disneyana enthusiast, there are portions of the Walt Disney Family Museum that he or she probably feels glance over that really
important thing too quickly. But, like any element of teaching, or storytelling, the curators have to make choices that make this space accessible to people who don’t know anything about Walt Disney.

So, this last gallery does a fine job at giving patrons an overview—with the hope that future exhibitions will shed light on details. (A nearby building at the museum will house temporary exhibitions starting in 2012.)

The final nooks of this giant room provide some unique views at some of Walt’s last projects. As you walk past a small display of Mary Poppins you find yourself in front
of a large glass wall, behind which stands a monstrous machine with lighted
buttons and motors and, what appears to be, film reels atop. Suddenly, Dick Van
Dyke
appears as a one-foot-tall projection on top of a stack of film canisters.
Van Dyke narrates an explanation of this giant machine, the Optical Projector,
making this now-extinct piece of movie magic a fun and entertaining part of the
gallery.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

EPCOT is displayed in a small monitor with some reduced
concept art around it. Footage of Walt Disney and some computer animation sketch out his plans for an Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow. Some of the
footage comes from the film Walt made for prospective investors in the project
a mere six weeks before he died—at one time a rare thing, since released on one
of the Walt Disney Treasures DVDs. The EPCOT concept was a big idea to Walt,
and—much like other areas in this room—it’s importance is lessened by its small
display and crowded placement.

The remainder of the gallery touches on more unfinished
projects, including the Mineral King Ski Resort, and rekindles the family side
of Walt by displaying more family photographs and memorabilia.

Continuing on, the space becomes much more confined. You enter a small wallpapered room that has a single television set. Emanating from it, radio and TV broadcasters announce Walt Disney’s death on December 15, 1966. Letters, newspapers and fan-mail grace the opposite wall, collectively mourning Walt’s death but celebrating the greatness of his life.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

This room punctuates the whole museum: the scale compared to
all the other rooms with its stark decoration makes for a solemn place. The
room remains quiet even with a dozen people passing through. The creative burst
is halted. The seemingly infinite possibilities of Walt Disney’s leadership
stop, announced by a tiny color television.

We move forward to a widening room with white, glass walls:
Walt’s afterlife. Flat screen TVs, embedded within the walls, play a
celebrating stream of images of Walt Disney’s life and work. This wall montage
functions as a fine ending, reminding us of all we’ve seen both in the museum
and in the world, thanks to Walt Disney. We’re reminded of the humble
beginnings of a farm-boy who got hooked by the early days of animation and,
with his love of entertaining and telling stories, reinvented entertainment as
we know it.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

The Walt Disney Family Museum is a living celebration of a
man who many people don’t know much about anymore. It celebrates Walt Disney
the artist, the dreamer, the husband, and the father. As visitors, we pass
through the galleries as invited guests, much like a visitor to Disneyland. We
experience the progress and innovation of Walt Disney as if peering over his
shoulder and seeing his life firsthand.

Diane Disney Miller and the Walt Disney Family Foundation
have done a remarkable job at letting us into Walt’s life in a way that only
someone from Walt’s family could have—with love and devotion. There is nothing
camp here—The Walt Disney Company could not have done the exceptional job that
the curators, designers, and staff at the Walt Disney Family Museum have.

And, while this may not be the museum for little kids or
perfectly represent every detail of Walt Disney’s 65 years, it leaves you with
a seed of inspiration. You walk away with a tiny feeling inside, the very thing
which epitomized Walt Disney’s life: Nothing is impossible.

Photo by Brad Aldridge

Brad Aldridge is an artist and designer who lives in the San Francisco
Bay Area. He’s
also an amateur Disneyland & Walt Disney historian, and runs
JustDisney.com.

Brad Aldridge

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