This is the second in a series of articles looking at UniSA’s new futuristic museum of discovery, MOD., through the eyes of people of different ages – particularly younger audiences. MOD.’s first exhibition, MOD.IFY, prompts visitors to think about one of the big questions – what is it to be human?
We asked third-year UniSA journalism student Geena Ho to explore MOD., and capture her reactions to the current exhibition.
Name: Geena Ho
Studying: Bachelor of Journalism and Professional Writing; and Bachelor of Arts (English and Creative Writing)
Interests: Anything related to food or puppies.
Hobbies: I love blogging, photography, and playing piano in my spare time.
Career aspirations: I aspire to enter the journalism and media world in the online or social media landscape.
As I walk through the glass sliding doors into MOD. and step into the hustle and bustle of the lobby, the clanking of the coffee jugs from Food Lore and indistinct chatter fill the large room.
I take a pamphlet from the stand welcoming me at the entrance of MOD. with ‘IT’S NOT WHAT YOU KNOW’ prompting my mind into a marathon of thoughts.
I look around and notice the crowd of visitors dense towards my right where the long corridor is decorated by a never-ending black screen with nothing but a glowing handprint tempting my curiosity.
I tentatively lay my left hand on the handprint, unsure what to expect, when the glowing outlines of the print disperse cinematically into thin air and a woman appears on the screen.
I continue down the hall with visions of her enchanting tale of the stars still reflecting in my eyes.
Down the hall, I’m met with the haunting sight of our Earth rotating slowly in the centre of the room.
In this moment, I am alone and have the chance to look around and take in the constellations that surround me.
I look back at the giant display in the centre of the room. Is our Earth really that big? No, it’s bigger.
As I’m about to make my way back to the lobby to head upstairs, a patch of unexpected greenery catches my eye to the left.
Sitting on the artificial grass are three large, grey pods. I start to walk over slowly to inspect, before I realise they are chairs. Curious, once again, I sit down in the first one.
Swallowed by the chair’s walls, my mind begins to wonder as I listen in on a conversation that seems to surround my entire being.
Where is the sound coming from? All around me.
The silence that envelops me as I’m walking up the stairs and heading down yet another long corridor is interrupted suddenly by the laughter and chatter of some uniformed children who are no doubt here on a school trip. They run around the first floor looking here and peeking there and I find myself following their antics to a hidden room down the end of the corridor.
I peer into the dark room, lit only by an omniscient neon purple light. I step in cautiously, careful not to knock into (or be knocked into by) one of the schoolchildren dashing around the room. I didn’t have to worry for much longer, though, as they are quickly distracted and take off to the next exhibition.
“I feel like you just have to keep going forever,” I hear one of them say as they zoom past me out of the room. What could she be talking about? Ah – this.
The room houses a long tunnel of striped lights. I step in, looking around, before slowly realising what’s happening around me. When I look to my left, the wall of vertical striped lights makes it feel like time is fleeting by, but when I look to my right, the horizontal striped lights slows time right down to almost a halt. Almost.
I wander into yet another dark room, once again, lit only by a few select neon lights.
This room is eerily quiet, as if it’s waiting for something.
I look around slowly at the displays – a large flatscreen TV with a man talking about something quite passionately, a podium with a square light projected on the ground beside it, and two futuristic-looking chairs deeper into the long room with a long light column extending from each, right into the ceiling.
I slowly make my way around the room studying every display. There is a deep silence, accompanied by the faint whirring noise of something.
These chairs are what fascinates me the most. Here to test my pain tolerance and interpretation. Yet I’m too scared to use them. What exactly is my interpretation of pain? I guess I’ll never know.
As I walk through the glass sliding doors out of MOD. and step into the hustle and bustle of the city, the soft revving of car engines and faint tram bells fill the world around me.
I take out the pamphlet from the stand that welcomed me at the entrance of MOD. with ‘IT’S NOT WHAT YOU KNOW’ prompting my mind into a marathon of thoughts.
I definitely recommend MOD. for curious-minded people of all age groups as there is something there to interest everyone.
The immersive and interactive nature of the exhibitions are enough to stimulate anyone’s mind.
MOD. is open midday - 6pm Tuesdays to Thursdays; midday - 8pm Fridays; and from 10am - 4pm on weekends. Admission is free.