Today we're going to the Peabody Museum for my blog. Tip: It's in Salem, not Peabody. It's only yards from the Museum Place Mall, home of Cinema Salem, which has three regular-size auditoriums and one that they call the screening room - which is basically a large storage closet with eighteen seats and a DVD player with the hugest TV I've ever seen. The regular auditoriums show first-run movies which are usually better than average as far as multiplex fare goes. The screening room has smaller independent films, foreign films, documentaries, etc. I've never seen a bad movie in the screening room, ever. They have a café and more popcorn toppings than you can shake a stick at. If you're in town, make it a point to go. See whatever's in the screening room. You won't regret it.
As for where to park, the museum doesn't have its own parking. There's a lot outside the mall by the cinema entrance, and if you go around the corner, there's a garage above the mall. The mall itself only has a handful of shops and a few places to eat but not a regular "food court." Also: if you park in the garage, take the elevator. The stairs smell like hobo pee. So does the elevator, but you're not in it as long.
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I wish this sign was posted there. I found it online with no attribution.
On entering, we were greeted by this sweet Studebaker, a custom-made one of a kind. Almost makes up for the lack of shrunken heads - almost.
After purchasing our tickets, including a timed entry for Yin Yu Tang: A Chinese House - an actual house, brought to the US and reconstructed in the museum's courtyard. It doesn't look that impressive from outside, but the inside is beautiful, with carved wooden screens and its own courtyard with stone koi ponds. Of course there's no photography allowed, but there are images of bits and pieces on the museum's website. I did get a few photos of the accompanying exhibit inside the museum proper. Most of these are from the medieval era, but the last one is from the third century BCE.
This RMS Queen Elizabeth is practically big enough to sail on. If you're really short, at least.
I take back what I said about them getting rid of all the whaling paintings. This appears to be whaling with cannons. Yes, I realize they're probably really firing harpoons, but since you can't see that, I prefer to envision cannonballs.
Eagle & Salmon blanket, by Don & Trace Yeomans, Native (Métis & Haida) contemporary artists from BC.
Sorry about the glare in the photo of the masks. The case is near the entrance to the exhibit, which means it's getting the full light of the lobby/café plus the sunlight from the courtyard. The detail on the bracelets is amazing. Maybe if I keep taking silversmithing classes for the rest of my life, I might eventually be as good as this.
Recreation of the first private ocean-going yacht in America, Cleopatra's Barge. Note preparation for ample libations. As beautifully appointed as this room is, the only way for me to not be seasick is a) in open air and b) for the boat to be moving fast. The best trip I ever had was in Ireland, returning from Clare Island. The water taxi that brought us out had developed engine trouble, so the captain arranged for two teenaged local boys to take us back in a smallish inflatable boat with twin outboards. We covered the four miles to the mainland in less than ten minutes - half the time of the ride out. The boat was actually going airborne over some of the bigger swells, and we were totally covered with salt spray by the time we got to Roonagh Quay. That may have been the most fun nine minutes of my entire life. Plus, check out the Clare Island website. In 2014, it actually recommends hitchhiking as one means of getting to the quay from the nearest town. Anyway, all of this is to say that while this setting may have been the epitome of yachting luxury in its day, drinking below deck is just a recipe for disaster as far as I'm concerned.
And a model of the yacht itself:
I don't recall a lot of other ships' figureheads with a guy's face on their crotch... She looks rather harsh, too, don't you think? Like this maybe really represents her holding the guy's severed head by the hair or something. Whatever you do, don't get in this ship's way.
Part of a series on the burning of the Luxborough Galley: a warning not to toast your slave cargo with flaming shots.
Pardon the pun in the last post. I swear I only realized what I'd written when I re-read it.
Demonstrating the little-known art of spinning yarn from soft serve ice cream. Don't tell me that "wool" didn't come from DQ.
Yes, that's Priscilla Mullins letting John Alden know she always goes for the wingman.
After that we saw more Asian art in an upstairs gallery.
When your grandchildren ask why there are no more elephants, you can show them this:
No photography in the abstract gallery. Aww... you know how much I love modern art. /sarcasm/
This bison, with its poorly taxidermied face, is the first thing I've seen that I remember from school trips. Seriously. It stares at you with its dead, dead eyes, and you will never forget the horror of looking at its face. The glare in this photo is for your protection.
Aside: Oh God, it's that annoying Scandinavian hipster couple I kept running into last Halloween.
After seeing all the galleries, we hit the gift shop: new hat and drinking socks. I suspect the hat may become involved in drinking, too.
That hat knows how to party.
After the museum we went grocery shopping. I started unpacking & announced "We more cereal!" I swear the drinking hadn't started yet. But with my new fancy hat, you know it's going to...
