09.30.05
King Tut, how I knew thee…
Apparently, Monday at 4:00 P.M. is a great time to visit the King Tut exhibit at LACMA. We walked in with no waiting, though the rather unapologetic attitude taken by the staff on site (no cameras, no cellphones with cameras, no cellphones powered on, no recording devices, no bags of any kind) didn’t set an upbeat tone. However, being open-minded, we left our bag at the bag check, and proceeded through what could only be described as the “holding pen,” ostensibly for the weekends, when the need to corral hundreds of people and trickle them through the exhibit like the human equivalent of a IV drip.
Once in the holding pen, we were told that our tickets did not include the audio tour, but if we would only spare US$6 per head, we could be tantalized by the sultry and exotic voice of Omar Sharif. Unable to resist the siren call of Hollywood actors with Middle Eastern names, we purchased the use of the headsets and continued on.
Once past the IV drip, we were frisked by guards at the actual door, then ushered through a short hallway to the introductory theater. I was struck by how polished the video production was, and how high I had to crane my head to watch the short video (again narrated by Sharif, complete with ominous soundtrack). The mystery of the neck-stretching was revealed when the video ended, and the lights came up cleverly to reveal, under the screen and behind it, the first piece in the gallery (a wooden bust of Tutankhamun).
However, as I had my young daughter with me, that’s where the fun ended. The headset was the first thing to fall by the wayside. I was too absorbed with keeping an eye on her to spare more than a glance at the wonders of Tut’s ancestors, let alone listen to the audio tour describing the exhibit pieces. Next to go was the pretense that I was in the museum to do anything other than amuse her, or at the very least, keep her quiet. Yes, three year old girls have little concept of what being quiet entails. Even though other people are quietly shuffling between glass cases filled with artifacts, my child is perfectly happy saying in her outdoor voice, “Daddy, I wanna leave, I wanna leave, I wanna leave…” It wasn’t long before I had handed my headset back at the other end, having carried my kid through 75% of the gallery at a brisk walk.
So, suffice it to say, I didn’t get a great look at anything, except perhaps the gift shop and the childrens’ gallery annex next to the exhibit entrance. I did, however, see enough to come away agreeing with criticisms from friends that had gone before me to see King Tut’s treasures. That is, that the exhibit is more about Tut’s ancestors and relatives than really about his tomb and the pieces uncovered by Howard Carter back in 1922. It had an extensive bit about the investigation done by the National Geographic Society into Tut’s sudden death at the age of 19, but didn’t go into significantly more detail than the magazine itself (June 2005). Compared to the original exhibit that I had seen as a child at the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco, this exhibit was, sadly, more flash than substance.