This is the fifth installment in our series on quirky museums in the Houston area.
Because of the water table, it’s pretty rare for Houstonians to spend any significant time underground. That novelty is part of the awe-inspiring history tour of the Buffalo Bayou Park Cistern.
Calling the cistern a “museum” is a bit of a stretch. Though there’s a gift shop and a small display of the original blueprints, the entire exhibit is just the incredible structure itself accompanied by a whirlwind tour. That said, the space itself is enough.
DUNHAM BIBLE MUSEUM: This facility at Houston Christian University is devoted to just one book.
Located on Sabine Street, the structure was built in 1926 and inspired by the Basilica Cistern in Turkey. It housed 15 million gallons of drinking water for the growing city, though it slowly fell out of use once Lake Houston was created. Initially accessible only through four heavy ceiling hatches, the average Houstonian probably never even knew it was beneath their feet.
That all changed in 2010 when the Buffalo Park Conservatory rediscovered the space. At first, they wanted to demolish it and replace it with a space for parking. Once they got a look at the structure, they changed their plans to create a combination historical tour site and art/performance space. In addition to the educational tours, the space regularly hosts light-based art installations and concerts. Some of the latter are performed on raised platforms in the middle of the water.
When: Tours available 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Wednesday-Friday and 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Saturday-Sunday
Where: 105b Sabine
Details: $8-$10, free on the first Thursday of the month. Special event schedules and more information at buffalobayou.org.
Inside the cistern, it’s dark, cool and quiet. The conservatory has added wide walkways and low lighting, but little else. It feels more like a church than an industrial site. Hundreds of of 25-foot-tall cement columns line the big open area, almost like a Brutalist cathedral dedicated to the flood gods of the city. Ten inches of clean, undisturbed water sits at the bottom. The mirrored surface makes the columns look twice as high, as if the cistern descends hundreds of feet into the Earth.
Even when a visitor is made aware of the illusion, it is impossible to shake the feeling that they’re seeing a cyclopean structure that defies conventional geometry. The walk around the cistern takes only minutes, but the other side looks miles away.
“The reflection and the echo surprise people,” says tour guide Rosemarie Croll. “Most people are surprised that they’re only 25 feet tall. It fools people’s perception. Your eyes and your mind are two different things sometimes. It’s so big, and it looks like a temple.”
Croll is a mesmerizing tour guide. She walks backward through the entire tour while dictating the history of Houston’s drinking water needs since the days the Allen brothers were luring people here on the promise of cool sea breezes. At the end, she serenades the group with a song she wrote about the cistern, which she can sing in eight languages.
The echo of the space is so powerful that her voice forms its own ambient harmonic backing track, almost like she was singing over a John Cage composition. When she was done, no one in the tour group clapped until the 17-second echo was finished, recognizing it as part of the performance.