My comfort zone is a dark theatre, laptop glowing in front of me, headset perched over one ear. As an artist, I had never left this zone until my recent transition to exhibit design at TSI. After a decade spent in the theatre designing, building, and painting for the stage, taking my place behind a desk in a well-lit office felt almost alien to me. As someone with a terminal degree in playing pretend, shifting my focus to designing work meant to last decades, not weeks, was intimidating. The differences between scenic design and exhibit design felt huge until I stopped to examine the similarities. At the end of the day, they are both artistic disciplines created to stand before an audience and impact how that audience thinks.  

Scenic design is the holistic creation of a stage environment. The scenic designer is the first artist whose work an audience sees as they enter the theatre. Before the play has even started, the scenery is visible (or strategically obscured), setting the mood before a single word is spoken. Without the input of other design areas or actors, an audience is left to sit with the scenery and their thoughts. Much like walking into an exhibit without an on-site interpreter, the time before a play begins is a self-guided tour of the set. 

The process of scenic design, much like the process of exhibit design, is content-driven. The guiding question behind every choice is “Does this serve the story?”. If a set is beautiful but fails to aid in telling the story, it has not served its purpose. This principle carried over easily to exhibit design. Every aesthetic choice must be driven by content. There is no place for doing something because it looks cool or because the team wants to try out a new idea; it only has a home in the exhibit if is serving the content. Just as a scenic designer works with a director and producer in theatre, an exhibit designer works with an interpretive planner and art director. 

Another key similarity between scenic design and exhibit design is the presence of an audience. Visitors to an exhibit are guided by the flow of the space, the layout of artifacts, and the order in which they encounter content. While they don’t have actors or a plot to bring them through to the other side, they are still on the receiving end of a narrative. Every element of the exhibit - the placement of each reader rail, image, and model, the shape and theming of each display – comes together to guide visitors through their learning. At the end, they have been told a story composed by the art of the design team, just like seeing a piece of immersive theatre. All we’re missing is the playbill. 

As I grow more comfortable with the discipline of exhibit design, I have come to appreciate the pace of this work. At TSI, we create exhibits that last years or even decades. As such, we take the time we need to do justice to the longevity of our work. The pace of theatre is breakneck. A play can go from initial design conference to opening night in as little as two months. I’m still not accustomed to the idea of working on each design phase for as long as I used to spend on an entire project. The care and attention this inspires is a change I’m very much excited for. Not sprinting through my ideas and scrambling to keep up with deliverables will be a welcome change. Lasting art that carries lasting impact deserves time, care, and focus. 

While starting my journey as an exhibit designer has pulled me squarely out of my comfort zone, it has also challenged and inspired me in all the familiar ways. I still spend my days telling stories through setting, pouring over books of colors, and learning new facts that give context to my work. I am still a theatre artist, only now my stage is brighter, bigger, and longer lasting.