"Change is
a constant in the Universe," Robert Redford's gentle voice tells us. We're
seated comfortably in the Hayden Planetarium within the Rose Center for Earth and Space at the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York City. But all around us celestial objects are spectacularly crashing into
one another. "Things going bump in the night" as AMNH President Ellen Futter
had told us by way of introduction to Cosmic Collisions, the newest
space show produced here. And every audience member who walks in will
have his or her world rocked.
It opens to
the public on Saturday, March 18th in New York and will immediately
be distributed to AMNH's partners, the Denver Museum of Nature & Science, the
Shanghai Science and Technology Museum and GOTO Inc., one of the largest makers
of planetarium hardware and programs. None of the partners are worried about
simultaneous distribution. Seems there're plenty of catastrophic smash-ups and
smack-downs to go around.
Cosmic
Collisions
chronicles a paradigm shift. For ages of human history, the sky has been
perceived as gentle, majestic, and eternal. But that's not the way it is
at all, we recently discovered. Precipitating events happen fast in the Cosmos.
It's the aftermath that may take eons. We learn in this show, for instance,
just how counter-intuitively rapid was the formation of our Moon. How do you
like one month?! And if you've never felt sympathy for dinosaurs before, wait
until you see for yourself what actually killed them, along with nearly 75% of
other life on Earth.
"We are a
museum about evolution; about process," says Mike Shara, Curator of
Astrophysics for AMNH and science warden of Cosmic Collisions, "How do
species evolve? How does our Earth change? Our Milky Way Galaxy?" AMNH's
answer: collisions are the agents of change at all scales.
We humans
tend to see ourselves right in the middle of those scales - halfway between
quarks and galactic super-clusters. From the safety of our padded chairs
in the dome we see that some cosmic collisions are beautiful and harmless: the
delicate spark-flurries of a meteor shower as Earth swings forward through
remnants of a comet's tail. But other clashes would kill us, all of us,
immediately. Looking back through time, it's clear that we are only here,
able to make or enjoy planetarium shows, because of a confluence of collisions
that rigged the game in favor of us, though almost surely not with us
specifically "in mind".
On this
topic, Cosmic Collisions plays it straight. The script neither
admonishes those who believe in some form of intelligent design, nor does it
pander to that possibility. It simply speaks the science, staying on the firm
ground of the proven, without provocation or cheap shots at faith-based belief
systems.
"The show
itself has evolved," Shara says. How could it not? With 3 major partners, 18
outside providers of imagery, an in-house production team of 34, and 15
external science advisors all providing input and improvements. Yet the
production went together in record time: 18 months from clean screen to final
mix. That's faster than a speeding photon measured against typical Big
Planetarium production time. Especially when you consider that entire new
software applications had to be written to, for example, extrapolate 2D images
of certain galaxies out into 3D volumetric space and through dramatically
accelerated time. But it's not computer code you see up there on the
dome. It's imagery; incredible in that it's so thoroughly credible. And who
provides the final measure of that imagery's success?
"My real
bosses are a horde of sixth-graders," exclaims show director Carter Emmart,
referring to the average age of space show-goers. It's a tough challenge. For
their entire lives, this audience has been bombarded by X-Box style
interactivity, cinematic surround sound, high-end animation, hyper-capable
characters, A-list actors, superheroes, supernatural storylines... And it doesn't
make planetarium producers' lives any easier that - compared to HDTV and
theatrical film--the technology of digital dome projection is really in its
infancy. 3D animated images projected across a 100 foot dome simply cannot
(yet) be as bright or as sharp or as fast as what you see on your laptop. Or
what an 11 year-old sees at the arcade.
On the
other hand, AMNH's Hayden/Rose Center is much more than just a screen. The show
leverages AMNH's Digital Universe asset, an elegant virtual 3D charting tool
containing accurate positions of billions of stars, clusters and galaxies, all
developed within the Museum's walls. And AMNH actually does cutting edge
new science here. With a one-two punch of world class researchers and
supercomputing horsepower, the team that built Cosmic Collisions was
able to visualize phenomena with previously unseen clarity. The raw data
leaps to life, quite literally right before our eyes. One stunning example is
the mixing interaction of our Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxy; a swirling
dance of fecundity as we watch new epochs of star formation igniting at the
visual rate of 40 million years per second! This represents a new method
of astrophysics; a third modality called Modeling added to classical Theory and
Observation.
Particular
kudos must go Ryan Wyatt, Lead Science Visualizer at AMNH, the individual
responsible for taking messy, confusing jumbles of numerical datasets provided
by astronomers and transmogrifying them into emotionally moving pictures--all
the while retaining the full accuracy and precision of the astronomers'
original measurements. If it sounds like witchcraft, it very nearly is; a
roiling silicon cauldron demanding a pinch of intuition, at exactly the right
moment, in order to taste just right.
Even so, no
show can be perfect. Those looking very hard to find fault may notice some
quirks. There's not a single mention of the most obvious indicator that
collisions are a fact of celestial life: the cratered current face of Earth's
Moon. Only one star crash is depicted--and only very fleetingly. Yet real
stellar collisions come in a fascinatingly broad range. From tiny, dense
neutron star smacks that are all over with in milliseconds to, say, a white
dwarf tearing through a red giant over the course of ten years or more! These
would have made for awesome animations. Also, a great deal of show-time is
spent on solar physics--stunning, great science to be sure, but the connection
to "collisions" is as tenuous as the beautiful auroras that the program
depicts. In fact, the solar storm stuff is so good that it might have been
better saved for its own stand-alone show.
Cosmic
Collisions also
makes a choice to restrict its narrative to an episodic presentation of types
of occurrences. But that comes at the expense of telling a memorable story.
It's a bit of a lecture. The intended audience would probably be better
captivated by more of a movie. Phenomena are generalized, rather than
personified with real examples we might have seen on the news. No reference to
Shoemaker Levy 9, the comet that woke us up to the threat of impacting
ice-balls, for example. Not a passing tip of the hat to NASA's Deep Impact
mission, a purposeful collision for the sake of great science. This choice is
understandable--it keeps the content evergreen--but it doesn't give a great creative
actor / director / artist like Redford much to sink his voice into. And it
doesn't leaving us feeling like we've experienced the collisions; only like
we've seen them and heard about them. Other recent large scale planetarium
shows, at other institutions, have trended away from quite so academic a tone.
These are
minor quibbles. Not one of the hard-boiled professional journalists in whose
company I watched the show walked out of it unchanged. All of us--even the
writers of astronomy publications--learned at least one or two facts we hadn't
known when we sat down. And we remembered it isn't really about us, after all.
If only 10%
of any audience that sees Cosmic Collisions really gets it that it's up
to them to be a dynamic force in the Universe, rather than simply getting hit
with whatever Nature deals, think of the way technology policy--especially space
development--would change.
And if only
one grade school kid per showing is motivated to pursue a career in science,
we'd have orders of magnitudes more scientists than we have now entering their
prime in less than two decades. Think of the impacts they'll make on
their world ...