A few weeks ago we went to see the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibition at the Pacific Science Center with two friends. First we had a nice lunch at a Greek/Mediterranean restaurant Olive You. By now from all the menu items we had I only remember the three delicious spreads we had with our pitas ass appetizer and that I had a Giuseppe panini: “artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes and mozzarella cheese on pesto base.” Then we headed to downtown to the museum, which was at the base of the Space Needle. We got there early enough to have a chance to spend some time at the Tropical Butterfly House. To get that building we had to go through a room containing the world’s largest guitar and the Insect Village with its giant robotic insects and interactive exhibits. The interactive part was fun, the guitar spectacular and the butterflies beautiful.
But we came for the Scroll, so we headed over a few minutes before our entrance was scheduled for 4.15 PM. The exhibition was professionally organized, including
- the friendly but firm security check of our bags,
- the outdoor gas heaters provided for the security people, who had to stand outside for hours,
- the waiting room with engaging enough introductory text on the whole,
- the personal audio machine we all got, so we could listen at our own pace to the commentary on the exhibitions’ elements,
- the ropes that herded us into the lines waiting for the official entrance to the exhibition itself right on time,
- the flow of moving from one room to another.
Maybe this last point should not be included, because the flow was somewhat jagged, due to having more people in the rooms than comfortable. This unfortunately resulted me moving faster than I would have liked. I simply didn’t have the patience to wait in front of each tableaux till I could get close enough to view the objects (or as it happened too often just texts and visuals) from real close-up. A good point thought that after waiting for 15 minutes to get in we had a chance to sit down for a 10 minute movie. It was a bit too propagandistic and full of pathos for my taste, but gave a good enough introduction to the topic and the exhibition. By “pathos” I think I refer to the Christian overtones. I made me realize that I only thought of the scrolls in relations to Judaism and Jews, while the majority of the visitors were probably Christians and they look at the very same texts and objects with a very different lens. The guestbook at the end confirmed this feeling, where I read that the exhibition strengthened some visitors’ faith in Christ and belief in the Bible’s legitimacy. They obviously saw it as external validation of their own tradition.
My other reaction to the obstacles in the moving around was that I ended up not listening to all the audio materials. It was not the recordings fault, which was interesting and informative. They were mostly designed though to listen to while watching at particular segments of the exhibition. If you were not standing right in front of it, then it made slightly less sense. It was still enjoyable, but out of context. I ended up listening to the whole commentary only at three places a, at the first 5-10 tableaux, b, at the sections where everyday objects were shown and not too many people stopped, and c, at the end where the actual scroll segments were displayed. The first of these reminded me of the historical and geographical background of the scrolls. The second derived from my interest in material culture. It was fascinating to see 2000 year old pots and textile. And finally I couldn’t leave out of course the reason we went there.
I have to admit I have mixed emotions. I prepared myself for awe. But by the time I got to the room where the scroll pieces were I was too tired to feel that way. The room, with its dimmed down lights and whispering visitors, was conducive enough, but the disconnect was too big to bridge. I wanted to feel the way I felt at the Kotel, the Western Wall: connected to history, my tribe, feeling it in my bones and veins that I am standing in front of something unique, ancient, biblical, and thus primordial. I did feel a little bit like that. Reading Isaiah in the original, on a 20 century old piece of parchment made me want to read Torah more. I also felt that the times when these writings were created were different, yet people’s desperation to connect to a higher source was similar. What I missed though was the elementary experience I had in Israel, which shook my whole body. The aforementioned professionalism and its limitations made it a cultural event, comparable to others I had.
To exit the building we had to go through the gift shop. I was thinking of buying a DVD. Or a replica of a scroll. Or a small object for my uncle, who in one of his past lives was an archeologist. Or a piece of jewelry. Or a t-shirt or small knic-knack as a reminder. The most interesting object was also tempting: a glass Christmas-tree decoration in the shape of a menorah. I ended up not purchasing anything; because they were either not aesthetically pleasing (I blame the logo of the exhibition for this) or I deemed them too expensive. I had plenty of time to look around, because my wife and then fiends came out of the exhibition way after me. I guess they had more patience to wait and listen throughout the show.
I am glad I went to see the exhibition. I know that I would have blamed myself later not checking it out. I learned a lot from it in terms of information. I did feel awe in the presence of the artifacts. But I am disappointed that it was not exactly the kind of experience I hoped for.
