National Gallery of Practical Science

George Scharf’s 1832 watercolor depicts the interior of the main hall in the National Gallery of Practical Science, Adelaide Street, on the north side of the Lowther Arcade, West Strand, London. Captured from the upper gallery of the hall’s interior, this image provides a clear view of the mechanical devices (such as miniature clockwork paddle boats navigating a 100-foot-long water tank) displayed on the ground floor below. The reservoir at the far end of the water tank features a central fountain, while a model lighthouse occupies the near reservoir, standing atop a small mock-island. In front of this reservoir, in the bottom of the frame, is a mechanical grinding wheel, a newly devised instrument for cutting metal. Adjacent, on the right side, is a working version of a steam-powered machine gun (invented by Jacob Perkins, the museum’s founder). In the bottom left corner, visitors examine what is likely an electrical current meter, designed by Joseph Saxton (Perkins’s associate and fellow Philadelphian) and installed in the National Gallery of Practical Science in its debut year of 1832. To the left of this device, stored against the gallery wall, is a small wooden fishing boat; further along is a model carriage that runs along a short track. Interspersed along the upper viewing deck, museum visitors can be seen examining a series of paintings in ornate frames and surveying the scene below.  

The National Gallery of Practical Science (popularly known as the Adelaide Gallery), was founded for the purpose of showcasing and disseminating innovative applications of electricity, magnetism, and weaponry. It played host to lectures and societies dedicated to the presentation and discussion of new ideas, discoveries, and theories. In his watercolor, Scharf—like Perkins—made public these advances in science and technology: the image publicizes the grand opening of the National Gallery of Practical Science by showcasing the very first set of exhibits displayed in the gallery— and how they were used. For instance, Perkins’s steam-powered machine gun was fired, every hour, down the “range” that ran the length of the main hall (on the right we see a man touching the gun while looking downrange, possibly anticipating the next demonstration). The grinding wheel, in the foreground of the image, is shown emitting sparks; the electrical current meter in the bottom left is being operated by a man while a couple watches closely. The figures in Scharf’s painting are learning not only through labels and lectures, but also through tactile and/or visual engagement—and thus the image endorses Perkins’s mandate that “the public display of such interesting objects will tend to the instruction, combined with the amusement, of every visitor” (National Gallery, 4). Indeed, Scharf created other illustrations of the most notable exhibits, similarly surrounded by eager visitors. 

Such active and practical displays demonstrated the benefits of these devices, and could explain, more directly than a simple label or catalog, how and why they worked. It is assumed that Scharf painted this image shortly after the National Gallery of Practical Science opened, since the exhibits are not numerous—by 1834, the Catalogue would list over 230 items (Altick 378). However, the objects that are not present—the spaces left open—are as important as the objects that are: Scharf calls upon viewers to envisage the technology that could occupy these empty spaces in the future. The gallery’s forward-looking modus operandi paid off, for two years after this image’s creation, an article in the Parliamentary Review and Family Magazine stated that the National Gallery of Practical Science “from its commencement has been daily improving, by a choice addition of models of machinery, works of art, and scientific apparatus” (798). 

Moreover, these innovations were brought to public attention not just for the purpose of education and entertainment, but also for commoditization. In a manner reminiscent of the commercial activity driving Thomas Gwennap’s exhibitions at the Oplotheca, the items displayed at the National Gallery of Practical Science “were not for sale at the exhibitions,” but they were shown “to attract potential buyers and customers'' (Morus 115). Thus, Scharf rendered the exhibits in such a way that made them appealing to the intellectual, the casual visitor, and the investor. His image thus fulfills the same plurality of functions as the gallery itself: it entertains and informs while ‘selling’ the museum’s scientific foundation, and its individual exhibits. 

Other notable developments foregrounded by the gallery include advances in electricity and in photography: Antoine Claudet’s photographic studio was housed on site, and there were demonstrations of the daguerreotype in 1839. Over the course of the 1840s, however, the “technical and scientific exhibits were gradually replaced by more and more entertainment features” (Beauchamp 18; see Altick 380)— and by 1852, the Adelaide Gallery ceased to be the National Gallery of Practical Science and became the Royal Marionette Theatre. During this time, those members of the public who had valued the National Gallery of Practical Science for its technological and scientific focus turned to a host of other galleries that emphasized mechanical innovation. These included the Royal Polytechnic Institute, the Adelaide Gallery’s long-standing competitor, first opened to the public in 1836—and the Royal Panopticon of Arts and Sciences, which opened in Leicester Square in the 1850s (Morus 114–5). By the end of the century, interest in the Royal Marionette Theatre had also waned, and the entire Lowther Arcade was demolished in 1904.  

The National Gallery of Practical Science was not the first museum of its kind, but it was the first in London that was dedicated almost solely to the exhibition and dissemination of scientific principles and technological advancements. Scharf’s watercolor captures a unique moment of scientific and curatorial history, when the work of inventors was publicized through museums, and when entertainment and education, as well as the arts and sciences, were more intimately linked. In a manner similar to the Great Exhibition of 1851, and the World’s Fairs that would follow later in the century, Perkins’s museum flourished at a time when scientific progress was firmly allied with social improvement and national prestige.