They Were Framed!
Solve a crime of ghastly proportions.
Solve a crime of ghastly proportions.
There's no I in automaton, so don't be Robotic. We'll go through the Process, and make magic with brilliant Automation.
You'll need not eyes, nor ears, nor nose, for you will feel when Skybar is beneath your toes. Further instructions await you there.
We'll need all of thee, if we're to wave all the tree. We'll then compare, one common, one rare.
This rotating exhibit challenges the idea that meaning should be confined to an individual work. Instead, new meanings emerge between works, where pieces placed together create a narrative that is richer, deeper, and more alive than any one alone.
Can we hold the fabric of time? Not exactly, but not entirely incorrect either.
The original Winged Jellyfish specimen, along with a beautifully bound edition of our short story, The Winged Jellyfish, was carefully packed and returned to the Harn Museum of Art in Gainesville, Florida.
But let’s take a step back...
This exhibit tells a story that is about as magical as they come, and it all starts with the single stroke of a paint brush.
The morning atmosphere creates a temperature inversion, trapping cooler air near the ground beneath a layer of warmer air. This inversion reduces turbulence, allowing sound waves to travel farther and more clearly—a perfect stage, but perhaps this isn’t the only reason we hear nature’s little performers at this hour.
Harvesting some ice is a great way to start the day. A chip off the old block of crystal clear ice—none of that cloudy rubbish from your automatic ice maker—with a beautiful purpose-built tool harkens back to days before household refrigeration was commonplace. This was not all that long ago. In the 1930s only 8% of American homes had a refrigerator, and along with it one of their first power cords to manage (foreshadowing tales of the great lengths La Voliera goes through to manage cords).
What if history had taken a mind-warping turn? This exhibit explores an overview effect through an alternate reality—perhaps the real reality: The Hindenburg didn’t explode; it was sucked into another dimension. Now, as a passenger aboard this lost airship, you are very much alive and aloft—drifting safely through time, witnessing the next 100 years of arts and sciences from a bird’s-eye view.