The Role of Architectural Design in Promoting the Social Objectives of Zoos

A Study of Zoo Exhibit Design with Reference to Selected Exhibits in Singapore Zoological Gardens

by Michael Graetz

5.3 General Discussion and Summing Up

The Past, Present and Future of Zoo Design

Zoo design has progressed on new knowledge of animals and animal behaviour as well as on new insights into human behaviour. The impact has been both direct and via changes in society, often due to the same causes, which lead to pressure on zoos to come up to date. In a way, however, the modern developments have been a rediscovery of Hagenbeck, but with a nod to the concerns of today.

When Hagenbeck unveiled his panoramas and open moated exhibits, many of which look rather stark and sterile today, it was to a less sophisticated public. Most never before would have seen the animals he displayed in anything but a cage or pit where the impossibility of escape was obvious. Today, zoo goers have strong negative feelings about cages. They are also used to moated exhibits and will see the moat for the barrier it is, and the animals just as confined, just as subdued.

We can detail habitats much more realistically now than Hagenbeck either could or wanted to. Through these techniques we seek to overcome the perception of tame animals in a tame environment; but it is worth remembering that the best of Hagenbeck’s results were achieved simply by clever planning and good site control to hide the moats and fences. These principles have not changed. The exhibitry materials of today are a definite advance; however, a great deal of it is unnecessary in a zoo like Singapore that concentrates on tropical species.

Perhaps the real change from Hagenbeck is the technique designers have evolved known as landscape immersion. This differs markedly from Hagenbeck’s intention: if he wished to convey the impression of wildness, he had no desire to place visitors in it. The intention of landscape immersion is to humble visitors somewhat by giving them the experience of meeting wild animals on the animals’ own terms. There is another aspect too: the human one of providing an adventure as an entertainment, much like the animatronic one Disneyland gives visitors with a ride down an alligator-infested river. A question is whether the future of zoos lies further in this direction.

This study has attempted to evaluate the ‘success’ of exhibit designs at Singapore Zoo. But success is measured in terms of a set of abstract ideas mainly about the meaning of design. These ideas have their analogues in mainstream architectural thought but in detail are peculiar to the zoo setting. Specifically, ideas in expression in other zoos and by other zoo designers and, above all, the views of visitors and staff were taken into account. In the context of the wider zoo world the exhibits studied are found to have elements of many of the current ideas.

Singapore Zoo has always placed the visitor first before considerations many other zoos would find of equal or greater importance. Yet this does not mean that the animals are not presented in a humane way or a way that does not preserve their dignity. The solutions are both idiosyncratic to this zoo and natural outcomes for a tropical zoo. Many needs and concerns are shared, as are the realities of zoo management. The results may fall short of idealised exhibitry, but they are pragmatic adaptations of the modern ideals to specific sets of often difficult circumstances.

When new zoos are planned, it is difficult to anticipate that attitudes may change in future years. Three approaches to accommodating changing ideas and new knowledge are: to not build up the whole zoo site at once; to build flexibility into new exhibits; and to build in obsolescence so that a dated exhibit can easily be demolished. The sources of changes in attitudes and new ideas come not only from the closed shop of zoo opinion but from society as well. Singaporeans, particularly, are seekers of new experiences in a small country where the recreational opportunities are limited by land scarcity. Singapore Zoo is barely two decades old, hardly a generation. It can be anticipated that as familiarity with the zoo and what it is about grows, demands for a more intimate connection with animals’ lives than provided by the simple interface of moats will grow. Immersion landscaping is one technique but others are worth exploring. Habitat exhibits tell visitors about the animal’s environment but do not necessarily tell them much about their biology or behaviour. Another concept, for example, is to relate animals to peoples’ lives through history, anthropology, mythology and so on.

In the future zoos will compete with virtual reality parks. With many animal species facing almost inevitable extinction in the wild, once their habitats are gone, zoos may face the question of relevance when the ‘real’, sensory experience of animals for educational or entertainment purposes may be permanently captured electronically. Inevitably, zoos will make use of such technology as interpretive aids, but the question may arise of what more is needed, especially if the conservation battle really is lost.

The availability of so many vicarious yet exciting leisure experiences may further erode the local zoo’s claim on the hearts of its audience. Yet the best zoo exhibits succeed when they allow visitors to realise something about an animal they could not possibly have known without that face to face encounter with a breathing, snorting, stamping wild animal. Stirring the emotions, the argument goes, is far more likely to get people to act on concerns over mass extinctions than merely informing them.

We cannot, of course, get animals to perform like this for every visitor. It has been argued that trying it is wrong and misleading; on the contrary, the point has been made that changing the expectation of this in visitors ought to be a goal of designers and educators. This is a dilemma and, more than debate over whether the boulders are real or hollow, or the trees fake, the debate over whether the animals are as ‘happy’ and behaving as normally as they would in the environment is at the heart of zoo design. Any suggestion that animals’ behaviour is manipulated more for visitors’ benefit arouses concern.

The challenge is to avoid visitors’ coming away with the negative perception that the animals did nothing, even if that is what they were indeed doing. This is where graphics and exciting gadgets can help to focus visitor’s on another intriguing aspect. Knowing what an animal is doing when it is physically inactive can change the visitor’s impression completely. An example of this is the fishing cat exhibit in the Night Safari. The animal is motionless when stalking fish. The catch comes in an explosive instant after which, if successful, it takes the fish off to a lair. Since every viewer knows what is about to happen, no graphics are needed and crowds are held for minutes watching a motionless animal.

One direction zoos may move in, espoused by Pushp Kumar, is the “biological park”, or “biopark”, in which “captive” husbandry gives way to “controlled” husbandry and breeding. This is quite different from the biopark idea of Michael Robinson, which is a combination of a zoo, botanic gardens and natural history museum. The Indian conception requires larger areas, natural vegetation, and must be truly bioclimatic, i.e. only animals suited to the climatic region of the park are sustainable. It is an idea intermediate between the conventional zoos of today and national parks. The ‘Night Safari’ shares some of these characteristics but more intensively developed. The biological park--or biopark, “could well be the ‘Missing Link’ between the purists and the practitioners of different forms of conservation.”1

A future generation may dismiss being the Last Refuge of Wildlife as the final line of defence of zoos by asking, “so what?”. Zoos must therefore take education of that future generation seriously by showing it what it may lose with which no vicarious experience can compete. This task is not something zoo directors and curators can achieve alone; nor can conservationists, educators, or architects and landscape architects--designers. All must collaborate in this.

Zoos are ceasing to be merely a luxury affordable by a society when it reaches a certain level of development. They are becoming increasingly important to the animal species that may avoid extinction only through or with help from zoos. When once zoos were second best to safaris (or wildlife documentaries) we may soon not even enjoy the thought that animals are better off in the wild. It may not be a judgement we are able to make when the reserves shrink to zoos. Designers, as part of the collaboration, need to learn how to design for animals now while ensuring the public do not decide that zoos are unnecessary or wrong. The key is in understanding--understanding visitors, zoos and animals.