CASE STUDY: ROSAMOND GIFFORD ZOO

Note: This blog is “From the Vaults.” Despite being posted in 2022, Felis Consulting’s visit occurred in summer of 2019. Many comments and impressions may be out of date.

From the outside, the 40+ acre Rosamond Gifford Zoo in Syracuse, New York, looks promising! A nicely designed walkway lined with benches, grass lawn, and lush gardens pronounces the entry which is visually prominent--adorned with a bright red-orange sign. The entry feels modern, sleek, and imparts a feeling of an innovative, forward-thinking organization just beyond the walls.

The day I visited was grey and rainy. Because of this, I noticed immediately (despite being tucked off the main entry path) a copper downspout in the shape of an elephant, dispensing the water gathered from the roof through its trunk into a rocky basin below. The stream from the basin went under the pathway and into an adjacent retaining pond or bioswale lined with cattails and other wetland vegetation. I may not have noticed this detail on a sunny day, but today, this little downspout enhanced my anticipation of getting to know an innovative little zoo with, what I’d heard before was, an awesome elephant habitat.

But then I entered the building, and my first impression from the entry experience fell away like the rainwater through that downspout’s trunk.

Once inside the doors of the entry building, I could’ve been anywhere. A public library. A university theater. A ho-hum museum. The ticket booths greeted me inside, generically. A gift shop that looked like it had taken over the reading room at the library, was to my left. A wall of interior doors leading to a special events space was to my right. I had no view of animals. No view of color. No view of fun. And certainly, no view of innovation.

Turns out, the building is the heart of the zoo, especially during the long, dreary, and snowy winter months of upstate New York. Because of that, it serves as a gathering space with the zoo’s only true food stand (looking very much like an off-brand McDonald’s), and many small exhibits, starting with an out-of-date, yet enticing and kitschy aquarium with a seabase or submarine feel. A tunnel of fish aquariums--some nice, like the jelly kreisels, some not so great, like the saltwater tank with a very faded and sad backwall mural--lead to reptile exhibits, which lead to an indoor walk-thru aviary and nocturnal exhibits, which lead to, somewhat inexplicably, an outdoor river otter exhibit (I may have gotten the order incorrect). Then suddenly, guests are dumped into another generic hallway, looking onto the large plaza just outside the building. This is a critical decision-point: take a chance continuing down an unwelcoming hallway that perhaps could lead to more exhibits, or venture outside to see the rest of the zoo. I choose the indoor option, wondering whether I might be dumped unceremoniously into staff offices or an education classroom.

But, alas, I stumble upon a series of primate, meerkat, and jaguar indoor exhibits. However, all feel very out of date, despite the best efforts of the staff to provide a complex, enriching environment. But, I do love the addition of the rainforest flats, and perfectly located seating.

It turns out that all of the faults of the first real experience of the zoo within the entry building actually establish the guest experience within the rest of the zoo: schizophrenic. I say that with love, because there are truly cool things at this zoo—like the historic-themed domestics barn that is not only simply beautiful, but totally fooled me because it actually ISN’T historic at all; the Primate Park flex-habitat (just outside the entry building) meant for rotating primates outside from the indoor habitats; the snow leopard habitat, which although obviously an older exhibit, provides large natural rock outcroppings for the cats, minimal cross-views for people, and borrowed landscape that makes for a very naturalistic feel; and, of course, what the zoo is known for—their massive, modern 7-acre Asian elephant complex.

But then there are long walks without anything to see—gardens and woods are wonderful, but setting an expectation of back-to-back and non-stop exhibits, and then seeing nothing for a long while can be confusing and frustrating for visitors. The Zoo, for the most part, eschews thematic immersion for architectural design, but every exhibit has a different design aesthetic—from the graphic design to paving variations to handrails to building design, leaving the zoo without any visual cohesion or identity obvious that the zoo has been designed by many people over many years. This is especially apparent in the main plaza, near that entry building that I so love to hate. The building itself, which spreads its wings to embrace 180 degrees of the plaza, looks like a pretty standard 1980s post-modern. But directly adjacent to it, multiple design styles clash: a special events area in the plaza defined by heavy white colonial railing; an Indian inspired empty elephant habitat; a wetlands boardwalk garden; the beautiful historic farm-inspired domestics barn. All are included in the plaza and plainly within view.

By now you might be thinking, “None of this sounds especially offensive. Why are you picking on Rosamond Gifford?” Because I know they can do better.

Although I don’t have a deep or intimate understanding, I do know the Zoo’s recent history was one of overcoming challenges and setting the zoo back on track from coming close to shutting its doors. Today, its attendance—well over 350,000 in a town with nearly half that population in an area with at least six zoos within a 2 hour drive and winters with months with near zero attendance—is steady, if not growing, and well beyond conventional expectations. Animal habitats are lush and complex, and new habitats are innovative (Primate Park and Elephants). Sustainability and green practices (hence the bioswale at the entry) are key priorities—they even use a ‘living machine’ type system with their elephant pool—one of, if not, the first for large mammals in zoos anywhere.

Since they’ve gotten over the hill of what was seen as a crisis for the zoo, now is the time to focus on the bigger picture—developing their brand identity. To me, it seems pretty obvious—focus on the fact that this “little” zoo thinks BIG. Big innovative ideas with a big, charismatic star (the elephant—who is, by the way, becoming a rarity in zoos altogether and even more rare in small zoos) as the symbol. Think about that downspout and what it really represents—a merging of the two brand differentiators for this zoo. Then, think about how to create a design aesthetic that speaks directly to that. The entry, outside the main gate, begins to hint at that aesthetic. Apply that throughout the zoo. And when thinking about developing new exhibits, think “what hasn’t been done before—and how does it enrich the lives of the animals and our guests?” Lastly, be sure to talk about and demonstrate all the cool things that makes Rosamond Gifford Zoo a big innovating small zoo.