Alarmed at the accelerating rate of decline in U.S. wax museums, I conceived this site hoping to see as many as I can among the tenacious hangers on before they fade into obscurity. Having a URL to document my visits just gives me an excuse to dedicate to the purpose travel funds that might otherwise seem profligate. The site also intends to serve as an outlet for my enthusiasm on the topic; if it spares my friends even a fraction of my yammering on wax facts and lore, they may consider investing. I've seen dumber Kickstarter projects.
It would be difficult to celebrate extant museums without memorializing some that live only in memory. Not in a maudlin way, mind. Better to have loved and lost, etc. That said, if I had funding I would buy all the failing museums across the U.S., convert them to nonprofits, and place them into irrevocable trusts with state and local governments to be maintained for free exhibition to the public in perpetuity.
In the meantime, Andy Jackson beckons us to leap the ramparts into the uncanny valley. He won the Battle of New Orleans, but the Musée Conti waxworks, where this scene is housed, is losing the war. As I write this, on January 30, 2016, the 50-year-old museum opens for its final day of business. Earlier in the month I felt compelled to visit while I still could. All alone with the figures on a chilly Monday morning I told them that I know from experience how it feels to be laid off. I know that what's most difficult to bear is that sudden vortex of doubt as to your essentialness. Perhaps I'm anthropomorphizing too much. I prefer to think I'm not.
All text and image content © 2016 Sixpenny Waxworks