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meredithpToday my mom and I went to the Udvar-Hazy Center, the branch of the National Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, VA. I'm not a huge fan of Udvar-Hazy because its interpretation is very minimal; there are very few panels in the museum, and it's mostly just succinct labels for most objects. It's more like the way museums were 150 years ago, but I like interpretation in a museum - just my preference.
And there is one place where interpretation was sorely, sorely lacking. Its absence, in fact, left me feeling almost physically ill, because this object cries out for more. That's the Smithsonian's Boeing B-29 Superfortress, acquisition number A19500100000, named the Enola Gay.
The Enola Gay needs no introduction to my readers; you all know perfectly well about the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. What you may not know about is the controversy surrounding its display at the Smithsonian as part of the 50th anniversary of the bombing. There is an excellent book about it, An Exhibit Denied by Martin Harwit, who was the director of NASM at the time; he was dismissed as a result of the controversy.
To summarize, the Smithsonian curators wanted to present a balanced exhibit that acknowledged Enola Gay's role in launching the Nuclear Age, and the impact the bomb had on the Japanese people. Veterans' groups were outraged at this, and felt that the exhibit should focus on how Enola Gay ended the war and was a triumph for the United States. When the exhibit finally opened in June 1995, it had been heavily rewritten, featuring interviews with the crew and information on the B-29 fleet generally. I saw the exhibit in Gallery 103 downtown before it closed in May 1998.
The Enola Gay has been on display at Udvar-Hazy since 2003. It's just one plane among many, now.
There's no information now. No exhibit like Gallery 103. No interpretation. Just two labels - a 360-degree view of the cockpit, and a couple of paragraphs with some data on the side. (Click any of the pictures in this post to make them larger.)
And that's it. The entire presentation of one of the most significant aircraft in the museum, in two labels. Unless, of course, you're on a guided tour - and it happens that two were presenting Enola Gay while my mom and I were nearby. We dropped in on each of them, and then a third happened to be on the catwalk when we walked by Enola Gay again later for more pictures. The docent on the catwalk had a nifty binder of pictures, but was prattling about engineering. The docent on the ground nearer to the plane was aware of the 1995 exhibit when asked, but didn't mention the controversy. The other docent, though, was...opinionated. When my mom asked him about the 1995 exhibit, he expressed annoyance with an "anti-nuke protest" that took place. (As you'll see from that article, it was not an anti-nuke protest, it was an anti-neutered-exhibit protest.)
My disappointment in seeing Enola Gay displayed this way is profound. For many of the aircraft and spacecraft at Udvar-Hazy, not much needs to be said; a well-written label is enough. But there are interpretive panels at Udvar-Hazy - the section on German WWII aircraft has two very nice big ones, and I learned a lot from them today. That one of the most important pieces in the collection gets no interpretation is terribly upsetting. It makes it almost a footnote in aviation history. There could be so much more. Even the 1995 exhibit, as presented, had more - and there was still more left out for political reasons. But now it's just a plane. No history. No story. And for that, as a public historian, I feel sorrow. I can only imagine how Martin Harwit feels.
And there is one place where interpretation was sorely, sorely lacking. Its absence, in fact, left me feeling almost physically ill, because this object cries out for more. That's the Smithsonian's Boeing B-29 Superfortress, acquisition number A19500100000, named the Enola Gay.
The Enola Gay needs no introduction to my readers; you all know perfectly well about the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. What you may not know about is the controversy surrounding its display at the Smithsonian as part of the 50th anniversary of the bombing. There is an excellent book about it, An Exhibit Denied by Martin Harwit, who was the director of NASM at the time; he was dismissed as a result of the controversy.
To summarize, the Smithsonian curators wanted to present a balanced exhibit that acknowledged Enola Gay's role in launching the Nuclear Age, and the impact the bomb had on the Japanese people. Veterans' groups were outraged at this, and felt that the exhibit should focus on how Enola Gay ended the war and was a triumph for the United States. When the exhibit finally opened in June 1995, it had been heavily rewritten, featuring interviews with the crew and information on the B-29 fleet generally. I saw the exhibit in Gallery 103 downtown before it closed in May 1998.
The Enola Gay has been on display at Udvar-Hazy since 2003. It's just one plane among many, now.
There's no information now. No exhibit like Gallery 103. No interpretation. Just two labels - a 360-degree view of the cockpit, and a couple of paragraphs with some data on the side. (Click any of the pictures in this post to make them larger.)
Boeing's B-29 Superfortress was the most sophisticated propeller-driven bomber of World War II, and the first bomber to house its crew in pressurized compartments. Although designed to fight in the European theater, the B-29 found its niche on the other side of the globe. In the Pacific, B-29s delivered a variety of aerial weapons: conventional bombs, incendiary bombs, mines, and two nuclear weapons.
On August 6, 1945, this Martin-built B-29-45-MO dropped the first atomic weapon used in combat on Hiroshima, Japan. Three days later, Bockscar (on display at the U.S. Air Force Museum near Dayton, Ohio) dropped a second atomic bomb on Nagasaki, Japan. Enola Gay flew as the advance weather reconnaissance aircraft that day. A third B-29, The Great Artiste, flew as an observation aircraft on both missions.
And that's it. The entire presentation of one of the most significant aircraft in the museum, in two labels. Unless, of course, you're on a guided tour - and it happens that two were presenting Enola Gay while my mom and I were nearby. We dropped in on each of them, and then a third happened to be on the catwalk when we walked by Enola Gay again later for more pictures. The docent on the catwalk had a nifty binder of pictures, but was prattling about engineering. The docent on the ground nearer to the plane was aware of the 1995 exhibit when asked, but didn't mention the controversy. The other docent, though, was...opinionated. When my mom asked him about the 1995 exhibit, he expressed annoyance with an "anti-nuke protest" that took place. (As you'll see from that article, it was not an anti-nuke protest, it was an anti-neutered-exhibit protest.)
My disappointment in seeing Enola Gay displayed this way is profound. For many of the aircraft and spacecraft at Udvar-Hazy, not much needs to be said; a well-written label is enough. But there are interpretive panels at Udvar-Hazy - the section on German WWII aircraft has two very nice big ones, and I learned a lot from them today. That one of the most important pieces in the collection gets no interpretation is terribly upsetting. It makes it almost a footnote in aviation history. There could be so much more. Even the 1995 exhibit, as presented, had more - and there was still more left out for political reasons. But now it's just a plane. No history. No story. And for that, as a public historian, I feel sorrow. I can only imagine how Martin Harwit feels.
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Date: 2015-02-02 06:25 am (UTC)He was clearly displeased by what I said, but I couldn't push it any further. I was dismayed, but not surprised: One can't judge a person by appearance, but he sure looked like a veteran to me, as veterans and pilots likely comprise the majority of docents: "Many of our docents have a background in aeronautics or space exploration, but those who do not have a love for the subject."
(As an aside, the page about docents expressly mentions sign language in encouraging multilingual people to volunteer.)