“Why focus on the hidden art history at Disneyland?”
Just the other day, someone asked me this very question, wondering why I’d pivot away from more traditional academic publishing to more accessible, popular culture art writing. My response was,
"Well, why not?"
I told them I didn’t see it as any different from my academic books and articles, except that hopefully, more people might read them. The entire reason I became an art historian was because I wanted to learn, discover, and illuminate the stories about art and artists from around the world to understand more clearly what makes humans, well, humans. Why do we have the impulse to create? To inspire and infuriate? Why does art matter?
Now, I still want to do these very same things, albeit in slightly different ways.
How the Sacred Heart influenced this Disneyland art historian
For those who don't know me well, hi, I’m Lauren Kilroy-Ewbank. I'm a recovering academic with a PhD in art history. In particular, I’ve spent a lot of time searching through archives, libraries, museums, and old spaces for art and documents related to the art of Mexico and the southwestern United States between the 14th and 18th centuries.
At one point in my life, I spent a really long time—more than a decade, gulp—learning all I could about imagery of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and its possible relationship to Aztec heart sacrifice (spoiler alert: the answer is very little). The Sacred Heart imagery that fascinated me focuses on anatomically correct floating and flaming hearts, not the valentine-shaped ones. On that journey, I was surrounded by all sorts of popular culture imagery that uses the Sacred Heart! Do you want a Sacred Heart night light? Boom, you can buy one. Do you want a Sacred Heart shirt for your dog? Here ya go. You’re into tattoos? Well have I got a tattoo flaming organ for you! And don't even get me started on all the pop culture imagery of Mary's Sacred Heart!
All of this is to say that I was delighted to learn how the Sacred Heart had become such a flexible and adaptable icon, well beyond its Catholic roots. It becomes like a Coca-Cola bottle or the silhouette of Sleeping Beauty's Castle—it’s found everywhere! I adored finding creative ways to weave these modern-day uses and applications into my book about the Sacred Heart—I didn’t see this so-called pop culture material as a separate story from the rise and spread of the Catholic icon of the Sacred Heart. It is all part of one big intricate story.
Focusing on Disneyland's hidden art history
To return to my opening question: Why focus on the hidden art history at Disneyland?
Because I think it is an excellent way to get people excited about art history, perhaps without even knowing it. As a friend said, "It's the ol' bait and switch." But also because the art historical references used throughout Disneyland are part of the larger story of some of those artworks now. To my mind, it makes sense to discuss the Mona Lisa as an important Italian Renaissance artwork as much as why this famed painting appears in Pinocchio’s Daring Journey. To know something about the Mona Lisa (beyond just identifying it as such) on the attraction makes it much more fun! I promise you that. It's like you are in on a secret.
My journey away from academia has been its own “daring” journey. I have a deep passion for making art history accessible, fun, and engaging to people outside academia and classrooms. I also have a deep love for Disney history. You can blame that on growing up in Southern California!
Some of my early influences
From a young age, I was captivated by the immersive worlds I experienced at Disneyland or the animated versions of Disney films.
I was especially tickled, and still am, with the opening of Sleeping Beauty when a gorgeous jeweled book cover opens to reveal an illuminated manuscript of the Sleeping Beauty story. It wasn’t until much later that I realized what an impression the imaginative storytelling and worlds of Disneyland and Disney films had on my imagination, creativity, and curiosity. My love for that jeweled book cover continues today—I even write notes for my books in a replica notebook now.
How teaching impacted my journey to Disneyland art history
When I really started to turn more seriously to Disneyland art history, as I am going to call what I am doing, was in the throes of teaching too many college classes early on in my academic career.
I’d sometimes talk about church spaces or imagined sacred landscapes built into architecture as immersive environments. I'd eagerly look out at students, hoping to see the same wide-eyed passion I had for the material. Dear readers, I mostly noticed students looking confused or just plain bored. And I'd get the inevitable "But why does it matter for my life or career?" I’d lost them.
One day I compared the Renaissance Sacro Monte (“sacred mountain”) of Varallo in Italy. Here, people built recreations of the events of Jesus Christ's life, passion, and death in three dimensions. There are paintings, sculptures, and architecture all used to recreate the holy places of Bethlehem and Jerusalem, as well as the events of Jesus’s life. Just look at that chapel of the Last Supper above—there are even figures with wigs! People visiting the Sacro Monte had to move through these spaces, sometimes stooping, kneeling, or crawling. All five senses kicked into gear as visitors immersed themselves in the sacred narrative.
Enter the Disneyland comparison to immersive storytelling, and my students were in rapt attention. I'd found a way to help them connect with people in the past—and appreciate some Renaissance things along the way!
Just like those sacred mountains, Disneyland creates worlds and lands. It has its own "sacred" mountains. It immerses us in stories. Imagineers activate all five senses. Just imagine the smell of vanilla wafting through Main Street U.S.A., the sugar of a churro brushing against your lips, the pleasant, colorful buildings dotting Main Street, the peels of laughter and the whistles and chuffs from the steam train, and, finally, the feel of your cheek or hands pressed up to the cool glass windows so that you can see what delightful window scene awaits you. Disney places us right into an idealized turn-of-the-century main street in small town USA. And you can't help but feel excited while you're there.
Back to my classes, though: my students craved more Disneyland art history, and I delivered. In my world art history classes, I could find tons of opportunities to weave the hidden art historical references at Disneyland into my conversations. When discussing Victorian art, I could dig into the Haunted Mansion. As we'd dig into 19th-century imagery of westward expansion in the United States, well, Frontierland came in handy. Soon enough, I just kept finding more and more and more historical art references. I’d really gone down, down, down the rabbit hole. And so it transformed into a hobby.
Entertaining and educational is the name of the game
Now, after a couple of decades, I am ready to transform that hobby into a realized series of books and embrace being a Disneyland art historian. I’ve had many fantastic and uplifting conversations with many people who seem hungry for this kind of deep dive into Disneylandia and the histories of art, especially American art or art of the Americas, in new ways. It's both fun and educational—much like Walt Disney himself intended.
“We have always tried to be guided by the basic idea that, in the discovery of knowledge, there is great entertainment – as, conversely, in all good entertainment, there is always some grain of wisdom, humanity, or enlightenment to be gained.”—Walt Disney
All these fun art history references enhance the immersive storytelling. These references enrich every guest's experience, even if they have yet to learn what they are looking at or how it adds to the story.
The magic of Disneyland and my (hopefully) original contributions
Transitioning from academia to this focus on Disneyland art history—among other things!—is driven by my desire to reach broader audiences. I’ve also thrown myself into other projects to do this, like ARTSQ, where I produce educational videos, or when consulting with different organizations.
And now I am here, trying to find ways to explore Disneyland’s heritage in new ways. Why is there a reclining nude pirate in the Pirates of the Caribbean? Or why was Blue Boy, painted by 18th-century British artist Thomas Gainsborough, selected as a model for Mr. Toad on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride? What do these choices mean for each story? These questions guide my research, analysis, and writing, and I am having a blast doing it. With some pixie dust, I will have the first book ready to go soon enough.
So, are you ready to join me on this adventure?
If your answer is yes, you can sign up for my newsletter! I will keep you in the loop, and you get some behind-the-scenes stories and exclusive insights into this wild ride.
The first book in the series focuses on New Orleans Square, so prepare for pirates, ghosts, and New Orleans history.
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