Remembering the Millennium Dome

In January 2000, while studying neuroscience at University College London, I visited the newly opened Millennium Dome with my girlfriend, now my wife. At the time, the press seemed to have made up its mind about the project. It was expensive, unnecessary and, according to many critics, an embarrassing waste of public money. We weren’t particularly interested in the controversy, though. We were curious to see what was inside and, as it turned out, we were both genuinely impressed.

The exhibition was unlike anything we’d seen before. Beneath the enormous white canopy, we found a mix of displays, interactive exhibits, live performances and some very unusual attractions. Inside, a giant model of the human body, mechanical brains, satirical sculptures and futuristic transport displays filled the space, while performers hung high above the crowds. Some exhibits were fascinating, others a little strange, but that’s what made the experience so enjoyable.

I shot a couple of rolls of 35mm film during our visit, and looking through them again more than twenty-five years later has brought back memories of a rather extraordinary day. They also offer a glimpse of Britain at the start of a new millennium, when optimism about what the future might hold was high.

This is a look back at the Millennium Dome, what we found inside and why, despite the criticism it attracted at the time, it remains such a fond memory for me and many others.

Key Facts

• Opened: 1 January 2000
• Location: Greenwich Peninsula, London
• Exhibition: Millennium Experience
• Visitors: Over six million
• Structure: 365m wide, 52m high, supported by 12 masts
• Current use: The O₂

The Millennium Dome: A New Beginning?

The Millennium Dome was built on London’s Greenwich Peninsula to house the Millennium Experience, a year-long national exhibition celebrating the arrival of the year 2000. Richard Rogers Partnership designed the structure, Buro Happold handled the engineering, and the McAlpine/Laing joint venture built it.

It was an ambitious project, to say the least. The exhibition explored three big questions: who we were, what we did and where we lived. The organisers divided the exhibition into fourteen themed zones, covering science, technology, art, culture and entertainment. Together, they aimed to capture Britain at the turn of the century.

There was also a political backdrop. Under Prime Minister Tony Blair, New Labour wanted to present Britain as a modern, creative and forward-looking country. The idea of Cool Britannia was still very much in the air, and the Millennium Dome became one of the most visible expressions of that optimism.

The reality, however, was rather more complicated. The project attracted criticism almost from the outset, with questions about its cost, purpose and whether it offered anything to justify the enormous investment. The press was particularly unforgiving, and the Dome quickly became a favourite target for political jokes and headlines.

Despite all this, more than six million people visited during its year-long run. It may not have lived up to expectations, but it was certainly an imaginative project.

First Impressions

We visited on 14 January, travelling from Kentish Town to North Greenwich. As we approached the Greenwich Peninsula, dark clouds hung over the enormous white tent. It made for quite a dramatic sight, although the grey January weather perhaps foreshadowed the storm of criticism that followed.

The building itself was unlike anything I’d seen before. Its enormous circular roof seemed to float above the surrounding landscape, giving it an almost futuristic appearance. From certain angles, it looked more like a spacecraft than a building.

But you couldn’t really appreciate its scale until you stood close by. The roof stretched 365 metres across and rose 52 metres high, supported by twelve bright yellow masts. The architects gave the dimensions a clever bit of symbolism: the diameter represented the days of the year, the height the weeks and the twelve masts the months.

I liked that the architecture was designed around the passage of time. It was a fitting tribute to a building designed to mark the start of a new millennium.

Inside the Millennium Dome

Inside, the building’s scale really struck me. The central performance area opened out beneath the vast roof, with the exhibition zones arranged around the perimeter. There was so much to see that it was hard to know where to look first.

What surprised me most was how quiet it seemed. After all the publicity surrounding the opening, I’d expected somewhere much busier and noisier. Instead, there was plenty of space to wander around and take your time looking at the exhibits.

The atmosphere was friendly, too. Staff greeted visitors in sometimes amusing costumes, while performers and acrobats entertained us from above. At one point, we watched an aerial performer suspended from a giant balloon decorated with an image of the Earth.

I liked the mix of serious subjects and theatrical silliness. The exhibition set out to educate and entertain. Some attractions were more successful than others, but there was always something interesting to see.

The organisers divided the fourteen zones into three broad themes: Who We Are, What We Do and Where We Live. Each approached the new millennium from a slightly different perspective.

Who We Are: The Human Body, Mind and Identity

The first theme explored what makes us human, covering subjects such as the body, faith, the mind and British identity. Some of the most memorable exhibits were in this zone, thanks to their sheer scale and unusual presentation.

The Body Zone

The Body Zone was probably the most memorable exhibit. A gigantic walk-through anatomical structure, shaped like two reclining human figures and covered in around 80,000 shimmering tiles, invited visitors to explore the human body from the inside.

It was an extraordinary sight. Giant organs, flashing lights and mechanical installations brought anatomy to life on a scale that was difficult to ignore. A huge model heart throbbed overhead, while mechanical brains performed a comedy routine.

As someone studying neuroscience at the time, I was especially interested in the brain and human behaviour. I found the whole approach rather entertaining. Science doesn’t always have to be boring, and this was certainly an imaginative attempt to get people interested in what goes on inside their bodies.

I also remember the smell. It was quite distinctive, and not particularly pleasant. Some things stay with you for reasons you don’t expect.

The Mind Zone

The Mind Zone explored intelligence, perception, illusion, language and how our brains make sense of the world. Interactive displays encouraged visitors to test their abilities and discover some tricks our mind can play.

This zone was probably the most closely connected to my own studies, although, ironically, I didn’t take any photos here. I guess I was too busy looking at the exhibits, or forgot to get my camera out.

Either way, it’s a reminder that sometimes it’s better to put the camera down and enjoy the experience.

The Faith Zone

The Faith Zone took a quieter approach, exploring religion and the different stages of human life. Illuminated pillars represented various stages, including birth, initiation, family, learning, death, marriage and community, drawing on the traditions of nine major world religions.

I found this space more contemplative than the theatrical displays elsewhere. The lighting and presentation encouraged visitors to slow down and think about the beliefs and experiences that shape our lives.

The Self-Portrait Zone

The Self-Portrait Zone explored what it meant to be British. More than 400 images, from familiar household objects such as the Brown Betty teapot to the Union Jack, revolved around a huge illuminated drum. It was a colourful collection of things considered representative of Britain at the time.

What I particularly liked, though, were the sculptures by political cartoonist Gerald Scarfe. His work offered a more critical view of British society, highlighting some of its less appealing aspects.

The figures were grotesque, exaggerated and often funny. The Thug, with a spiked boot for a head, represented violence beneath everyday respectability. The Couch Potato was fused to his armchair, an amusing comment on television and inactivity that feels rather familiar today. The Racist, with a gaping mouth incorporated into the back of his coat, was a particularly uncomfortable image.

There was also a wonderfully absurd nod to one of the era’s most memorable newspaper headlines: the Sun‘s infamous “Freddie Starr Ate My Hamster”. It showed that British identity was about more than national pride. It also included tabloid gossip and celebrity culture.

Scarfe’s sculptures were among my favourite exhibits. They added a touch of satire to an exhibition that was otherwise keen to celebrate Britain.

What We Do: Work, Learning and Leisure

The second theme focused on everyday life and how we spend our time. The exhibition gave work, education, rest, play, communication, money and travel their own dedicated zones.

The Work Zone

The Work Zone explored the skills people would need to succeed in the workplace of the future. Communication, problem-solving, teamwork, numeracy and IT all featured, with interactive displays encouraging visitors to take part.

My favourite was a giant table football game, which put teamwork into practice in a much more entertaining way than most workplace training sessions I’ve encountered.

There were also various displays and motivational messages about employment and working together. Some were quite tongue-in-cheek, including a poster that looked more like an advertisement for a Carry On film than serious workplace advice.

The Learning Zone

The Learning Zone celebrated education and the idea that learning shouldn’t stop when we leave school or university. An enormous bookshelf dominated the space, providing a rather literal representation of lifelong learning.

Looking back, the message seems particularly relevant. The world of work has changed considerably since 2000, and the ability to keep learning and adapt has become increasingly important.

The Rest Zone

After all the activity elsewhere, the Rest Zone offered somewhere to slow down. Soft lighting and ambient sounds created a more relaxed atmosphere, encouraging visitors to take a break from the exhibition.

Its centrepiece was Longplayer, a musical composition designed to play continuously for 1,000 years without repeating itself. The project began at the turn of the millennium and is still running today.

I think this was one of the exhibition’s more interesting ideas. Today, when we’re always checking our phones and moving on to the next thing, a piece of music designed to last a thousand years seems almost impossibly patient. Perhaps it was ahead of its time.

The Play Zone

The Play Zone was all about leisure, recreation and the things we do simply because we enjoy them. Sport, music, hobbies and games featured throughout, with an underlying message that having time to play is an important part of a balanced life.

It was a welcome reminder that life shouldn’t be entirely about work and productivity. That’s worth remembering in a world increasingly dominated by screens.

The Talk Zone

The Talk Zone explored how communication has evolved, from smoke signals to the telephone and internet. It also explored new technologies and how they might change the way we share information.

Some of the technology on display now looks rather dated, but that’s part of what makes these photos interesting. In 2000, the internet was still relatively new to everyday life, and the possibilities of digital communication seemed enormous. It’s quite something to look back at those predictions from a time before smartphones and social media became such a familiar part of daily life.

The Money Zone

The Money Zone explored spending, saving and the role money plays in society. One attraction challenged visitors to spend a virtual fortune in sixty seconds, which was a fairly appealing proposition.

More striking, though, was a display of one million pounds in real £50 notes, stacked behind glass. That was a lot of money to have sitting in one place, even if there was no chance of taking any of it home.

The Journey Zone

The Journey Zone explored how we have travelled in the past and how we might get around in the future. Its displays ranged from early forms of transport to high-speed trains and space travel.

The displays included a model of the Montgolfier brothers’ pioneering hot-air balloon, alongside examples of more modern transport technology. One display featured a Pendolino train, a sleek design that hadn’t yet become a familiar sight on Britain’s railways.

The exhibition traced transport’s development from muscle power to machinery and beyond. Some ideas seemed futuristic at the time, although many have since become part of everyday life.

Where We Live: Communities and Our Planet

The final theme moved away from individual experience and looked at the wider world around us. It explored community, the environment and our place on the planet.

Shared Ground

Shared Ground was built using recycled cardboard and focused on community spirit and the idea that we all have a responsibility for the places we live. Visitors could also record messages for a time capsule, leaving something behind for people in the future.

It was a simple idea that tied in neatly with the rest of the exhibition. The millennium was presented as a moment to reflect on the past while thinking about what might come next.

Living Island

Living Island took a more playful approach to British life, recreating the familiar sights of a traditional seaside resort. The display brought together sand, pebbles, cliffs and some rather cheeky postcards, mixing seaside nostalgia with a message about protecting our coastline.

It was an amusing combination of the familiar and the unexpected. The British seaside has always had its own particular character, and the exhibition clearly enjoyed playing with that image while also drawing attention to the environment.

Home Planet

The Home Planet Zone took visitors on a much bigger journey, exploring our place in the universe through a mixture of animation and interactive displays. Two animated aliens, Gaia and Max, guided us through the wonders of inner and outer space.

Nearby, a twelve-metre model of the Earth dominated the space, helping visitors navigate the surrounding exhibition.

The idea was to encourage visitors to think beyond their immediate surroundings and consider the planet as a shared home. It was an appropriate way to finish a collection of exhibitions that had moved from the human body to the wider world.

Other Attractions Inside the Millennium Dome

The fourteen themed zones were only part of what the Dome offered. Additional attractions and live performances added to the experience, giving visitors even more to see and do.

One of the more unusual attractions was Timekeepers of the Millennium, which explored time through the adventures of two alien characters, Coggs and Sprinx. The entrance itself was rather theatrical, with a Stonehenge-style arrangement of stones setting the scene.

The attraction had a wonderfully eccentric feel. Looking back, it seemed like a curious mixture of Doctor Who and Blue Peter. It mixed science fiction with educational television, and was completely bonkers. In many ways, it was typically British.

The Millennium Show was a much bigger production. Drawing on the story of Romeo and Juliet, the show brought together music by Peter Gabriel, aerial acrobatics and theatrical storytelling. Performers moved above the central arena, making full use of the Dome’s enormous interior.

I remember being particularly impressed by the performance. Seeing individual exhibits around the Dome was one thing, but watching performers suspended high above the audience made the whole building feel like a giant theatre.

The Our Town Stage brought together local communities from across the country for performances and events. Positioned alongside the brightly coloured Rest Zone, it reflected the organisers’ intention to make the Millennium Experience about ordinary people as well as large-scale attractions.

Skyscape served as both a cinema during the day and a concert venue in the evening. Looking back, that seems quite fitting given what the building eventually became.

Why the Millennium Dome Divided Opinion

Despite all the imagination and effort behind the Millennium Experience, the Dome remained a target for criticism.

The cost remained a constant source of controversy. Critics questioned whether public money could have been better spent elsewhere. Others felt the exhibition was too political, too focused on London or lacked a clear purpose. Visitor numbers also fell short of expectations, giving the press plenty to criticise.

The exhibition also faced questions about how it represented British identity. Capturing an entire country through a series of themed displays was never going to be easy. Britain in 2000 was diverse, with different communities, experiences and ideas about the future. No single exhibition could hope to represent them all.

Some of the displays were also rather heavy-handed. The Work Zone, for example, included plenty of messages about teamwork, motivation and the skills needed for the future. Others tackled complicated subjects through large-scale installations that inevitably simplified the issues they were trying to explore.

But it’s easy to overlook just how much the exhibition tried to achieve. It brought together science, art, culture, technology and entertainment, while attempting to say something about Britain and the wider world at the start of a new century.

Whether it succeeded is another question. What I do remember is that we had a good time. The exhibits were interesting, the performances entertaining and the whole experience unlike anything we’d seen before.

For all its faults, there was a lot to admire.

What Happened to the Millennium Dome?

The Millennium Dome exhibition ran for just twelve months, and closed on 31 December 2000. The building’s future remained uncertain for some time, but it eventually took on a new purpose.

Following redevelopment, the structure reopened in 2007 as The O₂, becoming a major entertainment venue for concerts, sporting events and other large-scale productions.

Today, most people know the building as The O₂. Since then, millions have visited for concerts and events, and the Greenwich Peninsula has changed almost beyond recognition since we were there in January 2000.

Yet the familiar white canopy and twelve yellow masts remain. The building may have a new purpose, but its distinctive shape remains a familiar feature of London’s skyline.

There’s something quite satisfying about that. An exhibition intended to celebrate the future didn’t quite work out as planned, but the building itself has proved remarkably enduring.

Looking Back

Looking through these photos again, I’m reminded of how much has changed since that January afternoon. At the time, I was studying neuroscience, the new millennium had barely begun, and the future seemed full of possibilities. We had no idea how the next twenty-five years would unfold, or what would eventually become of the building we were exploring.

The images bring back details I might otherwise have forgotten: the enormous anatomical displays, Gerald Scarfe’s peculiar sculptures, the suspended performers and the strange mixture of serious ideas and light-hearted entertainment. They also capture something of the atmosphere of the time, when Britain was trying to imagine what life might look like in a new century.

The Millennium Dome was never quite the success its creators had hoped for. It attracted criticism, divided opinion and became a national joke. But I don’t think that tells the whole story.

For a brief moment, it brought together an extraordinary collection of ideas, experiences and people beneath one enormous roof. Some of it was impressive, some of it was ridiculous, and some of it was a little bit of both.

For us, it was simply a memorable day out. Looking back now, though, I’m glad I took the photos. They preserve a place and a moment in time that have long since disappeared, even if the building itself is still standing.

And perhaps that’s what makes looking at them again so interesting. They capture how we imagined the future in 2000, but that future is now part of our past.

Project Details

Location: The Millennium Dome, Greenwich, London

Date: 14 January 2000

Camera: Pentax MZ-50

Lens: Pentax SMC FA 35–80mm f/4–5.6

Film: Konica Centuria 200, 35mm colour negative

Scanner: Minolta DiMAGE Scan Elite 5400

Software: VueScan

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