Trying to compare my visits to Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs and Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh would be like trying to compare apples and oranges. Both may be museum exhibitions about Eighteenth Dynasty pharaohs from ancient Egypt, but that is where the similarity ends.

Even the subject matter of the two exhibitions can’t really be compared. Tutankhamun focused on the famous tomb of a boy pharaoh who strove to restore the old gods and return his kingdom to a traditional belief system after his father had reformed religious doctrine and the corresponding pantheon. Hatshepsut told the story of a woman who did the unthinkable and broke traditional gender barriers by transforming herself from being the daughter, wife and sister of a pharaoh to becoming a pharaoh herself.

Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs, organized by the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities and the for-profit company Arts and Exhibitions International, is perhaps the big blockbuster exhibition of 2005. While only traveling to four locations in North America (the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the Museum of Art in Ft. Lauderdale, the Field Museum and the Franklin Institute), the exhibit has generated nation-wide press and international fervor.

The 10,000 square foot exhibition, featuring over 130 objects from the tombs of King Tutankhamun and his relatives, attracted over 900,000 visitors from all over the West during its stay in Los Angeles. Timed-ticket entry, additional security guards, an air-conditioned waiting pavilion, temporary concession stands and even a dedicated emergency response vehicle were all needed to accommodate the throngs that daily visited the exhibit. This was King Tutankhamun’s first time in almost thirty years touring the United States – and official reports from Egypt had said that this would be the last time. Proceeds from the exhibition would be spent building a permanent home in Egypt for the treasures of the Boy King.

Entering Tutankhamun felt similar to entering a ride at Disneyland. Crowd control consisted of waiting in a series of lines. The first line, in the waiting pavilion, was for the audio tour – available for an additional fee and narrated by Omar Sharif. The second line was a security line. Once at the front of the line, the security guard informed visitors that no food or drink (including bottled water) was allowed inside and that cameras had to be deposited at another smaller pavilion. The third line was actually inside the exhibition building and was surrounded by attempts at an immersive environment. Giant photo murals of the desert and pyramids lined one side of the corridor, while billowing diaphanous fabric in warm hues lined the other. Great faux-stone columns led the way to the start of the exhibit, which after waiting for about fifteen minutes, we finally entered.

The first chamber of the exhibit was small and dark with wall sconces resembling torches. A guard counted visitors and after a set number had entered, the doors closed behind us and the lights went down. Several people made spooky noises. A couple even chanted words from the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland. Then, a five-minute film began introducing us to the exhibit, to Tutankhamun the pharaoh and to the head of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, Dr. Zahi Hawass. The film ended, the doors opened and we poured into an already-crowded gallery.

Each gallery focused on a different aspect of the Tutankhamun story and was painted in a corresponding color. Exploring the tomb was a deep, dark purple while other galleries were warm, bright oranges and golds. Expense was not spared in terms of materials for exhibit furniture. Precious objects sat on limestone risers in vitrines of thick Plexiglas. But the crowds were so immense that actually viewing the cases was difficult and reading small label copy was impossible. Plinths stood scattered in the middle of the rooms, forcing the crowds to part and go around them – but the label copy only faced in one or two directions and the risers were often placed inside the vitrines in such a way that the objects could only be viewed from the front and the sides but not the back. Visitors pushed behind cases waited for a chance to circle back to the front or else just moved on in frustration.

While the exhibition was relatively light on objects, each object was highlighted with special lighting, making each seem like an individual treasure. Sadly, many visitors, obsessed with celebrity-chasing, simply shrugged with a disappointed, “Oh,” upon discovery that most of the beautiful and impressive items did not belong to Tutankhamun himself but rather were the possessions of his aunts, uncles and cousins. In fact, the biggest shocker and disappointment of all for many visitors – the punch line of the exhibit – was that there was no Tut in Tut. The famous golden mask, his coffin and sarcophagus and Tutankhamun’s mummy had all been deemed too fragile to leave Egypt.

Given that fact, the gallery depicting the tomb of King Tutankhamun was masterfully constructed, creating an atmosphere both sacred and scientific. Around the small, dark room stood cases with individual objects that had all been found within the many coffins of Tutankhamun. On the floor were markings illustrating the size of each of the progressively larger coffins – the largest and outermost one being the size of the entire chamber – and indicators showing where each of the objects in the gallery had been discovered. This quasi-re-enactment of unearthing the mummy satisfied my sense of curiosity about the tomb itself.

The exhibit’s approach to Tutankhamun himself was somewhat less satisfying. Instead of the mummy, there were recent CT scans of Tutankhamun and computer-generated images of what Tutankhamun might have looked like, based on the CT scans. The exhibit had traded an authentic, wrapped mummy full of questions and mystery for a fabricated guess at what might have been.

Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh also has a very limited tour schedule, with the newly re-opened de Young Museum as the first stop before heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (the exhibit’s co-organizer, along with the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco) and the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth. However, despite its 12,000 square foot size and display of nearly 300 objects, the exhibition has received little press outside of San Francisco and has been overshadowed in the media by the grand re-opening of the museum for which it is the inaugural exhibit.

Finding the entrance to Hatshepsut in the basement of the new de Young was a bit tricky and counter-intuitive, but once there, despite the large groups of people pouring in, viewing was not difficult. There were no lines in which to wait and the gallery spaces, while far from empty, were not crowded to the point of discomfort. There were no immersive elements and the art was presented well in standard art-museum format. The exhibit was designed with an eye towards educating and illuminating rather than entertaining and impressing. Instead of great columns evocative of the grand architecture of ancient Egypt, the exhibit began with a timeline, familiarizing the visitor with the time period and placing it within the context of the history of Egypt and the surrounding areas. Text panels explained quite clearly why the woman we were about to learn about was so extraordinary and contextualized her actions within the mores of the day.

Hatshepsut snaked around through uniformly lit galleries filled with art representative of a particularly rich moment in Egypt’s artistic history. Artifacts ranged from tiny faience cartouches to monumental sculpture, from household items to elaborate gold jewelry. Label copy, which was easy to read due to the layout of the exhibit, the smooth flow of the visitors and the lack of crowds (compared to Tutankhamun), tended towards the tombstone variety – materials, approximate dates, name of the object – with the occasional art historical lesson explaining how certain forms and symbols served as indicators of status, role, gender and name.

I was personally fascinated by a row of large statues depicting Hatshepsut at different times during her reign. Earlier sculpture showed her as female: wearing female clothes and bearing the symbols of a woman of power. Later statuary still portrayed her with a woman’s figure, complete with breasts, but the symbols she bore and the clothes she wore were male. In the latest sculptures, all evidence of Hatshepsut as female had vanished, although her face was still recognizable as her own.

Both exhibits exited into large gift shops. Tutankhamun’s featured sarcophagus-shaped CD holders and wine racks, special packages of See’s King Tut chocolates along with the expected assortment of books. Hatshepsut’s store boasted fine jewelry, scarves and art projects for children in and amongst the books.

I left Tutankhamun feeling rushed, pushed from behind by the mob. Still, I felt accomplished – I had just checked another item off of my cultural Must Do list – after all, everybody was seeing Tutankhamun; it was the talk of the town. I was disappointed that the big ticket items – namely his mask, his coffin and his mummy – were missing from the show, but I was intrigued by the theatrical effects and surprised by how much I had managed to learn.

My thoughts upon leaving Hatshepsut were that while it was fascinating subject matter and an elegant presentation of magnificent art, I was surprised that I didn’t feel that I had learned anymore than I did in Tutankhamun and that I had hoped for more experiential moments rather than just cerebral and aesthetic moments.

In thinking about these two exhibitions, seemingly so similar and yet so different, I began to realize that I want it all in an exhibition. I want both the glamorous theatricality of a re-created environment, complete with mood lighting and large-scale props to mimic architecture, but with authentic objects and an emphasis on educating rather than just impressing. I want the immersive components to create a context for better understanding the objects I am viewing, rather than to redirect my attention away from the fact that important authentic objects are missing from my experience.

I may be alone in my exhibition desires, but I don’t think so. A large part of Disneyland’s success – marketing and branding aside – stems from the fact that each ride creates an entire world through the use of theatrical, immersive technologies. These environments provide visitors with a sense of wonder and awe that sets their imaginations on fire. But there is still something undeniably visceral and enchanting about authentic artifacts – about the Real Thing. Knowing that the wrapped bundle of linens lying before you is the one and only actual mummy of King Tutankhamun is enough to make anyone gasp. Seeing this same mummy within the context of his tomb only enhances the experience.

I am not arguing for the substitution of content for window-dressing or that museums should focus more on entertainment and less on education. Rather I would like to see a more complete and successful merging of the two; I would like to see exhibitions that strive for scholarship while simultaneously placing a stronger emphasis on contextualizing the objects being used for teaching. Audiences must feel engaged when visiting museums. Objects of art and artifact should be used to entice visitors into wanting to know more – encouraging people to explore ideas, events, eras, phenomena and historical figures.

Both Tutankhamun and Hatshepsut had their strengths and their weaknesses, complementing and contradicting each other in their presentation strategies. In having seen both, I feel that I had a complete experience.

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