Dinosaur World Evolves

I had a chance Monday to reunite with my childhood friend, a 65-foot-long brontosaurus, at a press preview of Yale Peabody Museum’s long-awaited reopening. I worried the once impressive prehistoric creature would seem small and feeble to me now that I’d reached my intimidating final height of five feet four inches. 

When I arrived, I found out that the 150-million-year-old fossil has evolved more than I over the last decade, sprouting 27 more tail vertebrae, a new front rib and an uplifted, wagging tail.

The museum, too, has evolved, as the public will find out later this month.

I may not have spotted how the brontosaurus had aged without the help of discerning tour guides. They were more eager to talk about how modern understandings of life on earth have developed over just a few years than to brag about the $160 million makeover that prompted the museum’s four-year closure beginning in 2020. 

That said, no tour guide was needed to see how the museum itself has changed during that time, now boasting 50 percent more gallery space, generous streams of natural light, and an infusion of local artwork that speaks for itself.

And another major distinction from the past: When the public pours into the rehabbed lobby on March 26 for the Peabody’s official reopening, not only will visitors view a massive pteranodon skeleton rather than giant squid soaring above them, but they won’t have to pay for the experience. 

Admission is now free.

As a kid, trips to the Peabody were thrilling opportunities to see renderings of the mysterious multisyllabic names tossed around by my aspiring paleontologist older brother, who, when he learned I was getting a tour, inquired whether the fossilized oviraptor eggs he remembered from age 7 would still be on display. But high cost of entry meant family visits were rare and few in between.

No longer will the museum serve as a coveted commodity for 4‑year-old dinosaur fanatics. Complete with K‑12 classrooms, quicker curatorial rotations and better integration of cutting edge research from academics, the museum now hopes to serve as a highly accessible educational resource — where ​“it’s no big deal to come in on your lunch hour and just hang out for a while,” as Peabody Director David Skelly put it.

On Monday, reporters received a two-hour overview of some of the 19 galleries planned for this spring. Before closing down in 2020, the Peabody was 30,000 square feet. An extra 15,000 square feet of floor space has been added to the museum, and offices have been moved upstairs and out of the way to create even more room for onlookers to wander.

We saw the first two of four floors. On the ground level, patrons pass through three main rooms, the first full of exhibits on some of earth’s first multicellular organisms, including the largest collection of sea scorpion fossils in the world and dinosaur skeletons fresh out of the chiropractor’s office, like my boned-up brontosaurus. 

In the old days, the brontosaurus’ tail bones had been constructed so the 10-foot extremity dragged on the ground. Since then, Director of Collections and Research Susan Butts told us, researchers learned something new: ​“Dinosaurs had their tails up in the air!” 

No evidence in the form of fossilized dirt has shown track prints suggesting their tails touched the earth. Butts also said her crew has been bingeing Youtube videos to better understand and replicate the natural shapes of dinosaurs on the move.

Past red signage reading ​“mass extinction,” is a room documenting the mammals that came on scene following the mass extinction of dinosaurs 66 million years back as well as during the climate shift that saw the earth turn from lush forest into dryer landscapes with ice-capped poles.

“Understanding change is really important for people,” mammal paleontologist and Peabody Director of Public Programs Chris Norris said, pointing to a 44 million-year-old palm frond fossil. ​“It’s one of the hardest things to grasp.”

But looking at a palm tree and tracing it back to Wyoming of all places, he said, is a visual representation that can help people conceptualize the slow but drastic environmental evolution that has started to feel self-evident for most of us enduring the faster-paced climate change taking place today.

In the next room, the first human skulls hang on walls alongside early tools indicative of developments like agriculture. ​“We’re trying to explain what happened when humans came on the scene — without it being one giant downer,” Skelly said.

Beyond the reconstructions of old friends like brontosauruses, the second floor features new displays made up of artifacts that are, for the most part, ​“seeing the light of day for the first time,” according curator Kailen Rogers, as well as custom artwork from locals like Mohamad Hafez, the founder of Pistachio Cafe and a prominent sculptor and architect.

Hafez has installed a layered sculpture illustrating the development and destruction of Damascus over time, enfolding 3D prints of artifacts from the Yale Babylonian collection. It includes, for example, a golden rectangle functioning as an ostensible air conditioning condenser that’s really modeled on a fossilized memory of the first piece of literature ever produced, by the Sumerican writer Enheduanna.

“It’s ultimately a story of hope,” Rogers assessed of the piece, titled ​“Eternal Cities: Excavating the Present and Unpacking the Past.” While it shows demolition of Hafez’s native homeland, it also shows signs of life, like patches of green space and laundry hanging from miniature windows.

Rogers reported that Hafez is also eager to use his chef hat to produce recipes taken from the first-ever recorded cookbook from Mesopotamia. Those sorts of interactive works, Rogers said, is indicative of how the Peabody is trying to ​“diversify not just who tells stories, but how we interpret them.”

The hope, she said, is that the museum will no longer force a narrative of how the world once was and is, but offer people a chance ​“to think for themselves” and figure out what the fossils ​“mean to them.”

When reporters were given a chance to ask questions, few came up beyond the price tag of the project.

Chris Norris encouraged simpler inquiries: ​“Ask me what my favorite mammal is,” he prodded.

The answer, he continued, is the oreodont, or ​“ruminating hog.”

“They had a 44 million year history but they’re totally gone,” he said of the historic mammals. ​“And we don’t really know why that is.”

They have no modern relatives, he said, unlike horses, who evolved from mammals who lived more than 3 million years ago.

“Maybe it’s because I like losers because I’m British,” he said. ​“But it’s almost like it’s more interesting to learn about those who were not successful,” in the game of evolution.

When new children file into the Peabody to stare for hours at fossilized creatures, he said, he can’t wait to tell them about the mystery of the missing oreodonts — and to tell them, ​“You could be the one to figure that out.”