Project coordination and design
Dull oranges crashed into bright greens, punctuated by loud red triangles, none of which complemented the vastly different photographs placed seemingly haphazardly throughout the concept piece.
“Wow.” I was momentarily at a loss for what to say. “So, how much of this did you want to keep?” I asked. The loss of words now moved to my colleagues’ corner.
The wall mural had been shelved for months before I even started at the Philip J. Currie Dinosaur Museum, during which time changes in staff and responsibilities had shuffled. The mural — a tribute to nearly 150 years of palaeontology in the region — was still something that management wanted implemented in the permanent galleries, but the only thing the three of us could determine was that it should be... different from what was originally proposed.
“But are we alright to take it in a visually different direction?” I pressed. My colleagues readily agreed. The previous design was dictated by someone who had left a while ago, and it seemed that no one was particularly smitten with it.
I decided the project needed to go back to its intent. What was it trying to do? And more importantly, why would a visitor care?
In a dinosaur museum, visitors come to see and learn about dinosaurs. The museum was built to document and inspire discovery. What if the mural could be simplified to pair locally discovered dinosaurs with the people that contributed to their discoveries? It was worth a shot.
I illustrated some fossil skulls and put them chronologically with the events that led to their discoveries. The team liked the idea, and the concept was given the green light. From there, I worked with the acting director to get the look to harmonize with the galleries, and the palaeontologist to get the history right.
“That looks amazing!” The praise came from one of the mural project’s biggest and most vocal critics. “We’re very excited to see it in the museum!”