PLANNING
DOCUMENT,
DEPARTMENT OF TOURISM, CULTURE AND COMMERCE.
The following information is embargoed. Under no circumstances is it to be shown to
any person who cannot prove Australian citizenship. In appropriate cases, loyalty oaths may be
administered as a precursor to granting permission to view the following.
It is a well-known fact that public museums do not pay their
way: it is time they looked to private industry, which always pays. The public sector should examine more closely
the specific activities which pay. They
should seek to move our museums into the New Age of economically rational
cultural experience.
Instead of displaying old bones and other relics of an
increasingly irrelevant and bygone age, our museums must begin to address the
needs and concerns of today. They must
present useful and memorable cultural experiences, compressed to allow the
maximum variety and the widest geographical coverage, all within the shortest
possible time. Museums must be forced,
if necessary, to give value.
We need look no further than one recent development to see
how public museums are at present completely missing the commercial point. I was recently fortunate enough to visit ‘The
Australian Experience’. It was a truly
eye-opening to see just how much can be done commercially with just a small
amount of flair and imagination.
The Australian
Experience is a train of eight exhibition carriages, running from the Gold
Coast down into northern New South Wales and back each day, with inbound
tourists (that is, foreigners with plenty of disposable income) as the main
targeted market.
It is hauled by a steam locomotive fondly known as ‘The
Mauler’, (having been involved in 106 confirmed human fatalities: a definite draw-card for the non-traditional museum demographic).
The Australian Experience aims to give the busy tourist all of the experiences and photo opportunities which would otherwise take many days to achieve, and always with the risk of bad weather spoiling some of the shots. The Australian Experience guarantees that there will be no such problems with photography for its guests.
The Australian Experience aims to give the busy tourist all of the experiences and photo opportunities which would otherwise take many days to achieve, and always with the risk of bad weather spoiling some of the shots. The Australian Experience guarantees that there will be no such problems with photography for its guests.
On boarding at 9.30 am, passengers are welcomed to their
seats in one of the lounge cars by Aboriginal hostesses in traditional gold
bikinis. There, they are given a choice
of cocktails (named, for their principal flavours, ‘Billy Tea’, ‘Draught Beer’
and ‘Bluestone’). The soothing
background music in the lounge cars is a medley of traditional railway songs
and ballads, including ‘Casey Jones’, ‘The Wreck of the Old Ninety-Seven’, and
‘The Tay Bridge Disaster’. Once the
train is under way, passengers can wander at will through the exhibition cars,
trying all the varied delights that our wide brown land has to offer.
Car 1.
This carriage re-creates the parched outback. Authentic smells (the carriage doubles as a
working cattle truck each night), authentic lighting (cracks in the walls are
covered with red cellophane), and a realistic cow depict life in the
outback. Staff are at present working on
synthetic wool coats that will allow them also to use the cow in a scaled-up
demonstration of genuine Australian shearing.
The carriage is heated to outback levels by a ducted system running from
the locomotive's fire-box, demonstrating the designers' concerns for both
parsimony and for the conservation of energy.
At a quarter to each hour, coinciding with the simulated low
tide in the Great Barrier Reef car, the Wet Season arrives, followed by the
projection of time-lapse images of the desert bursting into bloom. Visitors will be able to purchase colourful
souvenir ‘Snowy River’ raincoats of reinforced paper (seen being manufactured
later in Car 7), or they can remain within the protective plastic tunnel which
extends down one side of the carriage, five minutes before the start of the Wet
Season.
Car 2.
After the heat of the parched outback carriage, the tourist
next enters the air-conditioned comfort of the ‘Great Australian Pub’
carriage. Here we see trained blow-flies
performing in one corner of the carriage, and two stunt men re-enacting a
variety of famous Australian bar-fights.
There are broken bottle fights on the hour and half hour, with audience
participation by prior arrangement. All
guests are provided with one complimentary drink from traditional Australian
beer-cans (reusable, but hygienically sealed prior to use). Further drinks may be purchased by guests.
Car 3.
Here the Great Barrier Reef is re-created. Entering by a raised area, guests move down a
ramp between long narrow tanks filled with brightly coloured fish and preserved
corals. This carriage has elliptical
wheels to give the impression of sea motion, and to ensure appropriate smells of
motion nausea from those patrons who spent too long in Car 2.
As patrons move down the ramp, they gain the impression of
dropping below sea level, entering the secret world of the fishes, complete with
recorded whale songs and sea shanties. A
small beach panorama is available at the far end, where guests may be
photographed, along with a range of cardboard cut-outs. Masks and snorkels are available for photos
in front of the Reef tanks (realistic bubbles in the tanks are strategically
placed for guests to pose near).
Car 4.
Here, guests meet the Australian Bush. With a surround-sound system of taped
bird-calls, Australian aborigines demonstrate their traditional Dingo Circus,
and show videos of their boomerang-throwing skills (due to insurance problems,
management have required them to use only cardboard boomerangs inside the car), and a
small shop sells traditional Australian bush scents (Lantana, Prickly Pear, and
Salvation Jane), plastic didgeridoos and other authentic Aboriginal memorabilia.
Car 5.
This is a marvellous Chamber of Horrors where guests see at
first hand the problems of the early settlers.
There are tableaux of families dying of the Barcoo Rot, a face-painting
activity where children's faces can be made up to simulate Sandy Blight, giant
models of blow-flies (photo opportunity!), live Hexham Grey mosquitoes,
depictions of dingoes stealing settlers' children, and, behind a fire-proof
screen, a real bushfire, complete with recorded screams and simulated
burning bodies (to allay the worries of the squeamish, guides point out that
the bodies are actually those of bush-rangers).
At the far end, a children's jumping castle features a
user-friendly range of giant goannas, crocodiles, taipans and other snakes and
spiders. With the exception of the
taipans, which are de-fanged to protect the fabric of the jumping castle, all
of these animals are inflatable rubber models.
Smaller inflatable versions of these may be purchased from the
concessionaire.
Car 6.
Aussie tucker and Aussie self-sufficiency are the themes
here, and guests are invited to participate in a shooting gallery
activity. No live animals are used:
white metal targets with projected images of assorted mammals and birds on them
are used. Sensors identify where the
target is hit, and sophisticated circuitry generates a scream appropriate to
the shot's accuracy.
In any case, prizes are awarded to all. For example, hitting five kangaroo targets
causes a cup of kangaroo tail soup to be automatically dispensed, and other
prizes include roast meat in damper sandwiches (pure reconstituted beef, but
with an authentic aroma of koala meat), and savoury ‘possum stew’.
All food is cooked under the patrons' gaze on a gas-fired
barbecue, and stuffed toy replicas of all the Australian wildlife targets will
be on sale. Guests who wish to be
photographed with the tastefully posed giant dead Diprotodon may borrow a replica of a semi-automatic rifle to
improve the authenticity of the photo.
This segment is augmented by one of the staff who collects road kills on
her way to work each morning. As a
trained make-up artiste, she adds realistic bullet holes to each body.
Car 7.
The Australian city is recognised as the natural habitat of
most modern Australians. Along one wall,
are panoramas showing the major cities of Australia, with strip-lighting from
above, to allow these backdrops to be used for taking souvenir photographs (for
the sake of convenience, Uluru will also be depicted here). All of the expected icons are depicted in
these panoramas.
The other side of the carriage features typical Australian
city scenes: a typical sweat shop where newly arrived migrants make the ‘Snowy
River’ coats for sale in Car 2. Nearby,
famous multiple murders are re-enacted against rear-projected backdrops
(allowing a later expansion to international coverage), drug addicts inject
themselves (using only the safest organically-grown and Australian-made
materials), and convicts are flogged.
Products on sale include replicas of Arvie Aspinall's alarm clock, and
the sweat shop staff and addicts perform multicultural dances when their other
duties permit, adding a delightfully realistic air to the proceedings.
Car 8.
Known as ‘The Big Car’, this last carriage features scaled-down
versions of thirty of Australia's favourite ‘Big’ icons: the Big Merino, the
Big Banana, the Big Pavlova, the Big Prawn, and others. By a clever application of optical systems,
the guests may be photographed alongside apparently full-size icons.
This is the end of the exhibition, and guests can now return
to the lounge coaches until they reach their destination, where they can have a
two-hour visit to the ‘Las Vegas’ room of the local RSL club, complete with
authentic poker machines, designed to accept and pay out in all Pacific Rim and
EEC currencies, or they can join in the community singing of German beer hall
songs, directed from a Karaoke machine.
On the return journey, they are free to visit the exhibitions again.
As you can see from this brief outline, the example is
there, completely ready for us to emulate.
Even if Sydney ignores the chance of offering the same or similar
experiences in other parts of Australia, The
Australian Experience has by no means completely capitalised on the commercial
possibilities
For example, many of the photographic props are provided
free of charge, when they could be hired or sold, there is no rain forest
experience, there are no crocodiles, no psychic sheep dogs, no albino, mutant
or deformed animals, and there are no trained birds able to swear in many
languages on command. There is no option
for conservation-minded patrons to shoot feral cats.
Looking again at the high end of the market, they offer no
surf experience, no surf boards, no video games or simulations, and there are
no plans to offer virtual reality experiences.
There are no thoughts of providing computerised interactive videos where
the purchaser's image is electronically inserted into a wide range of
pre-filmed Australian adventures, ranging from soft focus sex in the tropics to
skiing naked down Kosciuszko (naturally, with tastefully placed simulated
icicles covering the rude bits), to more family-oriented fare, such as a
kangaroo-back ride across Arnhem land.
The operators have totally missed the perfect opportunity to
offer paravane sports from the rear platform of Car 8. At this point, The
Australian Experience has no special rides for the under five age group, no
publishing plans, and no awareness of the franchising possibilities of their
scheme. That being said, they have still
done well, and the way is open for a forward-looking organisation to seize this
opportunity with both hands.
This madness is, in fact, based on a real submission that
passed over my desk at one point, because the institution I was working for had
a few hare-brained Marketing types who wanted a slice of the action. I
have toned down some of the more excessive suggestions, but there are definite echoes of the original to be found in Car 1.
I have recently found a long-lost file called Rudes, which contains many of my best minutes, notes and correspondence, written during a surprisingly long career as the world's only anarchist-surrealist bureaucrat. This was among them, and there are more of what my colleagues usually called Acid Drops to come.
I have recently found a long-lost file called Rudes, which contains many of my best minutes, notes and correspondence, written during a surprisingly long career as the world's only anarchist-surrealist bureaucrat. This was among them, and there are more of what my colleagues usually called Acid Drops to come.
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