The creation of these tableaus is indeed a complex mix of science and art. Curved background paintings, creating spaces that appear to stretch on for miles though sometimes only several feet behind the glass, are marvels of trompe l’oeil and can take up to a year. The most exalted achievements of taxidermy may be admired here, along with simple tricks like the use of mirrors to create the illusion that giant redwood trees stretch far into the sky. Among other techniques to mimic reality: the use of glycerin to preserve fresh freeze-dried moss and other plant life; papiermache and metal-and-wood skeletons used to “flesh out” actual carcasses; clear resins and Plexiglass to simulate pools and rippled water surfaces. What is real? Actual animal droppings, rocks, tree bark, soil, leaf litter, feathers, and animal parts such as skin, tusks, and antlers that can be preserved.

Technical challenges abound, such as the suspension of the 21,000-lb. blue whale which is the centerpiece of the Hall of Ocean Life, and the renovation of the Andros coral reef diorama, with its 40 tons of coral. (The Andros diorama is the only two-story diorama in the world, and it required 12 years and five separate expeditions, starting in 1923, to collect thousands of specimens of fish; these were first brought to the surface and painted from life while in aquariums, then preserved in formaldehyde before casting.)

Technology has changed dramatically since Quinn first joined the museum staff, then 700 strong, now over 2,000. “When I started, we did not have a single computer,” Quinn says. “And the ‘preparators’ used to specialize; there were model makers, taxidermists, illustrators, background painters, exhibit maintenance, and installation staffs … now, preparators have to be able to jump in and do everything from cleaning dusty dinosaur bones to sculpting models.”

In the past few years at the museum, dioramas have evolved into “walk-through” environments, such as China’s Lianong Forest and the Dzanga-Sangha Rainforest (which contains over 500,000 fabricated leaves). These exhibitions, allowing visitors access “inside the glass,” have their perils: “Recently the alarm went off as someone tried to climb into the rainforest,” Quinn says ruefully. He and his team spent six weeks in the forests of the Central African Republic to collect specimens, photographs, and data used to create the rainforest, a spectacular display which is a component of the Hall of Biodiversity.

Quinn asserts, “Environmental concerns transcend political beliefs … that’s what the dioramas are all about. We feel separated from nature, but we are just as much a part of nature … they give us a portal into a bigger world, for which we have responsibility.” Of the dioramas he writes, “As they transport us to the splendor of an unspoiled world, we come to recognize the inestimable precious value of the glorious diversity of life with which we share this planet.”

This is Quinn’s mission as well as his passion—through intimate encounters with nature, to trigger a passion to preserve, to have a visceral experience of nature as “grand, splendid, and worthy of protection.” In the words of Hamlet, “’Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.”

Footnote: In conjunction with the publication of Windows on Nature, several dioramas can be viewed in a 360-degree interactive panorama at www.amnh.org/dioramas.

Photos courtesy of Finnin/Mickens, American Museum of Natural History (AMNH).