Thoughts from Meow Wolf - The House of Eternal Return
Hi I originally wrote most of this in October of 2022, but didn’t work up the willpower to post it until now. I guess I always meant to make this post longer, but reading back on it now I think it pretty much sums up everything I really wanted to say. So…enjoy!
I finally made it to the mecca of Meow Wolf.
I went on a trip to New Mexico with my grandma, where (not to brag) we had a really great time. While we were there we visited three places that all left a similar thematic impression on me. The ABQ Botanic Garden’s Children’s Fantasy Garden, Tinkertown, and Meow Wolf Santa Fe — The House of Eternal Return.
Like many places (most places) occupied by people nowadays, these three places were pretty much 100% fabricated by people. Everything in those three places represented at least one decision made by at least one person. But what sets those three places apart from an average city block or community center park is the unique combination of an absence of industrialization and an abundance of craft.
Meow Wolf has often been compared to Disneyland (or World depending on your preferred coast), and I think the reason why is because of this combination. So much of Disneyland is bespoke, built with the loving hands of brilliant minds to create that which is indistinguishable from magic. But since Disney is playing on a far larger scale, they can’t quite reach the level of detailed granularity that the House of Eternal Return has been able to pack into each maximalist nook and cranny. Or Tinkertown, for that manner.
Tinkertown is a homemade museum showcasing both the intricate handmade dioramas, as well as droves of oddities both crafted and collected by the late Ross Ward. A circus sign painter by trade, and wood carver by heart, he assembled an incredible assortment of handiwork before succumbing to early-onset dementia and dying at the age of 57. A tragic and senseless loss. The Tinkertown Museum stands both as a showcase of Ross’s work, but also as a memorial to his absence. News clippings, photographs, and handpainted signs remind us that someone made this place. Ross lives on in every little detail.
Meanwhile, at Meow Wolf, the relationship between creator and creation exists within a self-imposed catch 22. When I walked down the corridor and saw the eponymous house for the first time, I excitedly turned to my grandma and said, “you know there’s a story hidden here for us to figure out.” I love a good story, I love to figure out a good story. But at the House of Eternal Return, I didn’t really care about the story. I went through the exhibition with a fabricator’s eye, not a writer’s. Sure, from what I could grasp, there’s something multiversal going on with the house…there are higher beings with powers of creation and destruction, synthesis and antithesis, and it’s all converging at this particular point of time and space and space and time. But I was far more astounded by the craftsmanship of the space than the narrative it claimed to be supporting. Why was I being asked to suspend my disbelief and accept the miracles of an otherworldly multiverse, when the real miracle was the real existence of this real and very worldly place? Hundreds of Ross Wards had come together to make something extraordinary, only to mask their efforts behind a heavily obscured and convoluted narrative.
I’m not sure I’m explaining this well, and I know I’m overthinking it. Let’s try a different angle.
The narrative was not clear, which was clearly intentional. I get that they wanted to create something that would reward the divers, while the paddlers trip acid and/or take Instagram photos. I guess one day I’ll have to go back, eternally return, and read the different journals stashed around the house so I can really dig into what’s going on there. But in the meantime, is there space for personal interpretation when deep down you know all the questions have been answered? There’s established lore, there’s definitive canon, and once you’ve read through the tomes we can all be on the same page. But until then, keep your ignorant interpretations to yourself.
What’s more interesting? The false miracle of multiversal convergence and your individual journey through uncovering it, or the true miracle of hundreds of artists collaborating at the peak of their craft and the collective journey of sharing it?
