Animal attraction

SMALL and homely, the tarantula is an unlikely role model. That makes it a perfect fit for “Noah’s Ark,” the interactive children’s galleries opening Tuesday at the Skirball Cultural Center in Brentwood. The permanent installation is designed to bust stereotypes about a lot of things -- including what a kid-centric space should be.

“We want to create a new model for a family destination,” says Marni Gittleman, the exhibit’s developer. “Most things are built around a set of facts like the life cycle of a dolphin. We want to provide an open-ended experience, one built around values such as self-esteem and community building.”

The Skirball also wants its visitors to work a little. “We’ll ask you to fill in the gaps, to participate,” says project director Sheri L. Bernstein, the center’s director of education. “The kinds of lessons we hope to convey are best conveyed on a visceral level. Traditional children’s spaces use a lot of simulated things and mediated experiences. We depend a lot on the real.”

Indeed, you won’t find bright plastic or cartoon characters in “Noah’s” activity zones, amphitheater and arroyo garden. Everything is tactile and awash in earth tones. The ark and its inhabitants were made of natural materials and re-purposed objects -- cowboy boots, Thai rain drums -- that should intrigue budding artists and engineers alike. High-tech wizardry is shunned in favor of devices that must be pushed, cranked or powered by teamwork and ingenuity. Nothing is pint-sized or segregated by age; families are encouraged to play together, in the belief that shared experiences are more memorable.

Like most children’s exhibits, the ark promotes learning through play. Unlike most, it emphasizes what founding President and Chief Executive Uri D. Herscher calls “the basics of character education.” This, he insists, is about values, not religion. The galleries were inspired by the biblical account of animals finding shelter from a storm, yet they mention neither God nor Noah and use imagery common to flood narratives from different cultures.

“Our goal is to be a Jewish center that is welcoming to everybody,” Herscher says. “The key is to take a timeless story and make it timely. We all face adversity. We all seek safety and, as immigrants or exiles, may go on a journey in search of a shoreline. The rainbow tells us you get not just a chance in life, but a second chance.”

Lest such big ideas fly over the heads of little guests, the Skirball has spent five years and $5 million and employed about 200 people -- architects, artists, welders and a wildlife expert -- to make things child-friendly.

In addition, a couple thousand kids have offered suggestions and clambered through the work in progress to test durability and safety and to spot things adults might overlook. Thanks to junior R&D; groups, the ark now has a 2-by-2 boarding ramp and addresses questions such as “How do you clean up the poop?”

The boatload of beasts is expected to be the main attraction for visitors of all ages. Among the more than 350 representatives of 186 species are popular favorites as well as the endangered and the misunderstood. Everyone has a story to tell. The lion lies down with the lamb. The penguins adopt an armadillo. And what about that hairy spider?

“Our dear tarantula has a little bad PR,” Gittleman says. “However, if we spend time with it we find it is an incredible community dweller. We can learn so much from not only the cuddly cute creatures but the spiky, prickly ones.”

Building any exhibit is tough. Building one for children -- especially when you’ve never done it before -- is tougher. The Skirball offers an assortment of family programs, but most of its museum space is devoted to exploring connections between 4,000 years of Jewish history and American democratic ideals.

“This is a new arena for us,” says Bernstein, who notes that the center is preparing for a surge in younger guests by revamping its cafe menu, debating stroller policies “ad nauseam” and training staffers to cope with crying babies.

“As for the galleries themselves, what’s so striking, especially given the message of ‘Noah’s Ark,’ is that we had all these voices -- the internal team, the designers, a gazillion specialists -- in a process that was not an easy process,” Bernstein says. “We ended up creating a great product, not despite the fact but because of the fact that so many people were involved.”

Shared experience is the goal

THE 66-year-old Herscher is the Skirball’s Noah, the patriarch whose vision for the future launched a great adventure. The son of German refugees, he was born in Tel Aviv and raised in a home he describes as “loving yet mournful” because so many relatives had died in the Holocaust. After moving to America in the mid-1950s, Herscher became a rabbi and a scholar. He has presided over the Skirball since it opened 11 years ago and has long dreamed of creating a place for families.

“I grew up in a basement that had no light, and now I live on a different planet,” Herscher says. “I’m trying to make up for all that has happened to me. Not for myself, but to make possible experiences that are pleasant and joyful for everybody.”

Architect Moshe Safdie, who designed the campus, included an 8,000-square-foot children’s space in an expansion that was completed in 2004. For its theme, Herscher selected the Noah tale after viewing a collection of folk art arks owned by Lloyd Cotsen, a Skirball board member.

“I realized how universal the story was,” Herscher says. “I also saw that what I thought would be something for 2- to 8-year-olds could be for everyone.”

The Skirball assembled a brain trust to guide the exhibit. Besides Gittleman and Bernstein, it includes senior scholar in residence Robert Kirschner as project manager and biblical sources specialist and psychologist Myna M. Herscher, the president’s wife, as child and family specialist.

Five years ago, a query proposal was sent to 40 architecture and design teams. “We were blown away,” recalls Alan Maskin, a principal at Olson Sundberg Kundig Allen Architects in Seattle. His firm had designed many museums but had little experience designing for kids. It won the job with a clever presentation delivered in a hand-pressed paper box wrapped in caution tape. Also included were puppets and an olive branch in water.

“They captured the aesthetic and the spirit,” Gittleman says. “They were timeless, whimsical, organic, creative, wondrous, edgy, stimulating, enticing and alive.”

Early on, the Skirball decided to write its own version of the ark narrative, one that allowed visitors to approach the story as fact or parable. The title figure kept evolving -- until he disappeared. “We realized the audience could be Noah,” Gittleman says, “or the animals could be the conversation starters.”

In recent years, kids’ museums have been trying to make themselves more interactive -- and less predictable.

“We’re going one step beyond that because we are doing something others haven’t,” says Maskin, a former children’s art teacher and the project’s art director. “We were ‘designing to values.’ ”

The best way to make messages meaningful, he says, “is to let people experience them for themselves.” The Conduct-a-Storm wall -- a Rube Goldberg assortment of gadgets that produce the sights and sounds of a tempest -- encourages creativity and collaboration. “By yourself you can make one effect,” Maskin says. “If you work with other people you can make an orchestra.”

Everything is touchable, even the 49 fanciful animal-sculptures -- including 17 puppets -- created by artist Chris M. Green. The rest of the menagerie was conjured up by Maskin, with help from Lexington Acquisitions, the Pacoima-based fabrication firm that made nearly everything in the galleries. (The installation’s centerpieces -- cross sections of a giant fir ark -- were built by Matt Construction and designed by Jim Olson, a partner in Maskin’s firm, in concert with Safdie.)

Lexington, whose previous projects include the Kidspace Children’s Museum in Pasadena, brought expertise in family-oriented design. “We knew six 8-year-olds can bend something grown men can’t,” says President and Chief Executive Richard Bencivengo. Lexington also brought an uncanny ability to translate concepts into concrete solutions. “The first time I went to their shop, it was like seeing my drawings in the third dimension,” Maskin says.

Creating each element took what Lexington project manager Howard Smith calls “a volley of back and forths, happy surprises, roadblocks and problem solving.” Typically, a Maskin sketch would lead to meetings with scenic painters, sculptors and prop, wardrobe, fabric and material workers, then more meetings with architects and artists, rounds of revisions and, finally, sign-offs from the Skirball -- which Maskin describes as “our most hands-on client.”

Specialists were recruited to bring specific ideas to life. Among them were radio theater designer Anthony Palermo, who worked on the storm wall, and Ned Kahn, who created the rainbow-mist sculpture that anchors the garden.

The project’s long lead time offered lots of chances for consumer testing. “Watching kids go through helps us understand what’s too subtle and what gets them over-excited,” Smith says. “Through all of this we’ve had to maintain such a fine line. You’re trying to create something durable, use reused materials, follow the themes and yet make it alluring. There’s a lot going on.”

Always a new experience

AS opening day nears, the Skirball is working on finishing touches. The ark’s play areas have been expanded. Animals have been tweaked. The exhibit’s only humans -- educators called “facilitators”-- have learned to lead drum circles and operate puppets. Their impromptu activities will be supplemented by workshops and amphitheater performances.

‘We want your experience to change each time you visit,” says Gittleman, who will run “Noah’s Ark” after it opens. “The storm may be a little different, or the space may be configured differently, or there could be a new program.”

Even though he’s toured the galleries countless times, Uri Herscher keeps finding things to savor. Nothing, however, will match the joy of watching newcomers stream in. “Each heart beats differently,” he says, “but I am hoping every child, every grandchild, every family might come a little closer to finding their notion of a rainbow.”

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‘Noah’s Ark’

Where: Skirball Cultural Center, 2701 N. Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles.

When: Opens Tuesday. Noon to 5 p.m. Tuesdays to Fridays, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays

Price: $5 to $10; free on Thursdays.

Information: (310) 440-4500, www.skirball.org, www.skirball.tix.com