When I heard that Madame Tussauds, the famous wax museum, was opening a branch in D.C. some years back, I rolled my eyes. Why go see wax figures of people when I live in a place where I can visit actual sites of historical importance? Why see a fake Abe Lincoln when I can go to Ford’s Theatre or the Lincoln Memorial? Touring a museum filled with famous people made of wax was cheating—cheap thrills and no intellectual heft.
I’d been taught to think this way in the 80s when I was part of a student group in London. Our cool professor pooh-poohed the idea of visiting the original Madame Tussauds there in favor of more nourishing pursuits. For me, it was the first lesson in being a discerning traveler—some places had value, others didn’t.
It stuck. Twenty-five years later, when I agreed to let my teenage children and niece choose a downtown destination on a recent outing, I cringed when they picked Madame Tussauds.
I decided I’d try to sneak "teaching moments" in wherever I could (and hope that no one I knew saw me going in the doors). A bit of research revealed that there are not only celebrity and sports figures at the D.C. Tussauds, but also political figures. Surely some wax version of a president would spark a mini history lesson.
And a collaboration I found advertised online between the museum and local libraries (Wax figure hunt at your local D.C. library!) let me know that the wax museum was trying to brush up its airhead reputation. It even dedicated a room to facts and figures relating to the making of wax figures—an average of 200 measurements for each face! Every single hair inserted individually!
But ultimately, even though I made them learn that the wax man with the impressive mutton-chop sideburns was President Chester A. Arthur, visiting Madame Tussauds was just one big photo op. (Ropes that used to keep tourists from nearing the figures have been removed and interaction is encouraged.)
After giving our children enriching opportunities and exposing them to challenging ideas, coaxing (or maybe dragging) them through their share of Impressionist art exhibits, making them sit quietly at the ballet, and staying awake at a symphony, they are, culturally speaking, quite well-fed. A little dessert from time to time should be okay.
It can be fine, once in a while, to pose like you’re friends with Malcolm X or Katie Couric; to pretend that Julia Roberts is leaning on your living room chair; to get in J. Edgar Hoover’s face; or to get a picture with Jackie O. Right?
What do you think? Can you explain the strange pleasure of staring at a wax Tom Cruise? See in my photo gallery below.
