Mixed Exhibits, Fauna and Flora, and the Purist Approach: Anna Groombridge Explores Species Selection

Mixed exhibits can be brilliant, but they can also become a polite way of saying “we put several species together and hoped the theme would appear later.”
At their best, mixed exhibits help visitors understand how animals, plants, climate, terrain, and behaviour connect. A walk-through rainforest house, a savannah paddock, a wetland aviary, or a coral reef tank can show relationships that a single-species enclosure cannot. At their worst, they become a random collection of attractive species that need different conditions, send mixed educational messages, and create avoidable welfare problems.
That is where the purist approach matters. A purist is not someone who dislikes mixed exhibits. A purist is someone who asks for discipline. Which species belong together? Which story is being told? Are the animals compatible in practice, not just on paper? Does the planting support the theme, or is it only decorative?
There is also a small but useful language point here. Fauna means the animals of a place, habitat, or period. Flora means the plants. “Fuana” is simply a misspelling of fauna. In exhibit planning, using these words correctly is more than tidy writing. It reflects clear thinking about what is being represented.

Mixed exhibits need a reason beyond variety
The phrase “mixed exhibit” covers many settings. It can mean hoofstock sharing a paddock, birds flying through a planted hall, fish and invertebrates in an aquarium, reptiles in a carefully controlled vivarium, or even a combined flora and fauna display in a botanical-zoological setting.
The idea is attractive because nature itself is mixed. No animal lives in a blank box. It lives among plants, microbes, competitors, prey, predators, shelter, weather, and seasonal change. Mixed exhibits can help recreate some of that complexity.
Yet “mixed” is not the same as “natural”. Many species that appear to share a region in the wild may not meet often, may use different layers of the habitat, or may avoid each other for good reasons. Others may overlap geographically but need different temperatures, humidity levels, substrates, social structures, or diets in captivity.
A good mixed exhibit starts with a defined logic, such as:
Biogeography
Species come from the same region or closely related habitat type.
Ecology
Species use different niches and do not compete heavily for the same space or food.
Behaviour
The animals’ daily patterns, social needs, and stress responses are compatible.
Education
The exhibit tells one clear story that visitors can understand.
Welfare
Each species can thrive, retreat, feed, breed, rest, and behave normally.
Without that logic, an exhibit may look exciting at first glance but feel confused on closer inspection.
Fauna and flora are not interchangeable
The correct use of fauna and flora helps keep the design honest.
Fauna refers to animals. In a South American wetland exhibit, the fauna might include waterfowl, turtles, fish, or small mammals, depending on the aim and husbandry capacity.
Flora refers to plants. The flora might include reeds, floating plants, marginal grasses, shrubs, and trees that suggest the right habitat and support the animals’ needs.
A mixed exhibit often succeeds because the flora is treated as part of the design, not as scenery added at the end. Plants can create shade, sight barriers, nesting areas, climbing routes, feeding opportunities, humidity, and a sense of scale. They also help visitors read the habitat. A desert exhibit with lush broadleaf planting confuses the message. A rainforest exhibit with sparse, dry planting does the same.
The misspelling “fuana” may seem minor, but precision matters in interpretation, signage, planning documents, and education. If a display claims to show the “flora and fauna of Madagascar”, it signals a complete ecological idea. If it says “fauna and fauna”, or uses a misspelling, it suggests the underlying concept may not have been checked with care.
That does not mean every sign needs academic language. It means the words should match the subject.
The purist approach is a design discipline
A purist approach favours coherence over novelty. It asks whether the species belong together within a chosen theme. That theme might be strict, such as “montane forest species of a specific region”, or wider, such as “grassland grazing systems”. The point is that the selection is deliberate.
This approach has several advantages.
Purist mixed selection | Random mixed selection |
Builds a clear habitat story | Creates visual variety without a clear message |
Makes welfare planning easier | Increases the risk of hidden conflicts |
Supports accurate education | Encourages vague or misleading interpretation |
Helps staff monitor behaviour | Makes cause and effect harder to read |
Gives planting a real purpose | Treats flora as decoration |
The purist approach does not mean every animal must come from the exact same square mile. Captive management, conservation priorities, legal restrictions, and animal availability all shape real decisions. It does mean the team can explain why each species is there.
If the answer is “because it was available”, the exhibit probably needs more work.

Anna Groombridge and the case for careful selection
Anna Groombridge belongs in this discussion as a useful named voice for a careful, selection-first approach. Rather than treating mixed exhibits as a display trend, the Groombridge-style argument can be framed around one central question:
What does each species add to the exhibit, and what does the exhibit give back to each species?
That question changes the conversation. It moves planning away from a wish list and towards a responsibility list.
A random mixed selection often starts with attraction. One species adds colour. Another adds movement. Another is rare, charismatic, or already held by the collection. These are not worthless considerations, but they are not enough.
A purist approach, of the kind Anna Groombridge explores in species selection discussions, starts with fit. The team looks at habitat, climate, behaviour, diet, disease risk, aggression, escape risk, public viewing, breeding management, and long-term care. It also asks whether the combination teaches something true.
For example, a mixed dry forest exhibit might include animals that use different vertical zones. Ground-dwelling species forage below, small birds occupy shrubs, and climbing animals use branches. The flora would then support that structure. Low planting, fallen timber, live shrubs, bark, rock, and canopy elements would all serve a purpose.
That is very different from placing unrelated species together because their colours look good against the same backdrop.
Welfare comes before visual effect
Mixed exhibits create practical challenges. Animals can disturb, chase, dominate, outcompete, or frighten each other. Some conflicts are obvious. Others are subtle.
A species may still eat but feed less confidently. It may still rest but choose poorer resting sites. It may avoid parts of the exhibit. It may stop breeding. It may show stress only during cleaning, feeding, or seasonal change.
A purist plan reduces those risks because it studies natural behaviour before mixing begins.
Key welfare questions include:
Can every species avoid the others when it chooses?
Are feeding areas separated enough to prevent competition?
Does each species have suitable shelter?
Are there enough vertical and horizontal zones?
Could one species injure another by accident?
Do breeding seasons change aggression or territorial behaviour?
Can staff remove an individual quickly if needed?
The best mixed exhibits build in escape routes, holding areas, visual barriers, spare capacity, and clear observation points. They also allow for change. If the mix does not work, the design should not trap the collection into keeping it.
Visual drama should never be bought at the cost of chronic stress.
Flora shapes the behaviour of fauna
Plants are often underestimated in mixed exhibits. They are not just a green background. The right flora can make the difference between a tense shared space and a workable one.
Dense planting can break sightlines. Tall grasses can give nervous species confidence. Shrubs can create nesting cover. Trees and lianas can separate climbing animals from ground dwellers. Aquatic plants can shelter fish, amphibians, and invertebrates. Browse plants can support feeding behaviour, when safe and appropriate.
The flora also affects the visitor experience. A well-planted exhibit invites slower looking. People begin to search, listen, and notice. They see an animal partly hidden, then understand why cover matters. That kind of discovery feels closer to nature than a bare enclosure with every animal fully exposed.
A purist approach treats flora and fauna as connected. The plants support the animals, and the animals animate the plants. The result is a sharper educational message.

Random mixing weakens education
A visitor should be able to answer a simple question after seeing a mixed exhibit: what connects these species?
If the answer is obvious, the exhibit is doing its job. If the answer is “they all looked interesting”, the design has missed an opportunity.
Random mixing can blur important ideas. It may suggest species meet in the wild when they do not. It may imply a habitat is simpler than it is. It may reduce conservation messages to a general feeling of “nature is nice”, which is too weak to last.
By contrast, a purist exhibit can teach with quiet clarity. A mangrove display can show how roots, tides, fish, crabs, birds, and shelter connect. A savannah edge exhibit can show grazing, browsing, shade, vigilance, and open space. A forest floor display can show decomposition, camouflage, humidity, and the importance of dead wood.
The aim is not to turn every exhibit into a textbook. The aim is to make the living display truthful.
Purism still leaves room for creativity
Some people hear “purist” and assume it means rigid, dull, or impossible. That is not fair.
Purism in exhibit design is not about saying no to imagination. It is about giving imagination a frame. Within that frame, designers can still create drama, beauty, surprise, and emotional connection.
A purist may choose an unusual but defensible pairing. They may design a habitat around shared seasonal change. They may include lesser-known species because they reveal the ecosystem more clearly than a famous one would. They may use planting, water, light, sound, and terrain to create a powerful sense of place.
The difference is that every choice has a reason.
That reason also helps animal teams. When staff understand the concept, they can spot problems more quickly. If a species stops using its expected zone, that matters. If feeding behaviour changes in one part of the exhibit, that matters. The concept becomes a practical monitoring tool, not just an interpretation theme.
A practical checklist for mixed species planning
Before any mixed exhibit opens, the planning team should be able to work through a simple set of questions.
The concept
What habitat, region, or ecological relationship is being shown?
The fauna
Which animal species are included, and why does each belong?
The flora
Which plants support the habitat, the animals, and the message?
The welfare plan
How will each species feed, rest, hide, move, breed, and avoid conflict?
The visitor message
What should a non-specialist understand within a few minutes?
The exit plan
What happens if one species proves unsuitable?
That last point is often overlooked. A responsible mixed exhibit includes a clear way to separate species without treating separation as failure. Sometimes the most ethical decision is to change the mix.

The strongest mixed exhibits are selective
Mixed exhibits deserve their popularity when they are planned with care. They can show ecology in motion. They can create richer lives for animals. They can help visitors understand that fauna and flora belong to the same living system.
But mixing species is never a shortcut to a better exhibit. It asks for more knowledge, not less. The more complex the display, the more disciplined the selection must be.
That is the real advantage of being a purist. The purist approach protects the animals from careless novelty, protects visitors from muddled messages, and protects the exhibit from becoming a random assortment of appealing species.
Anna Groombridge’s place in this discussion is the reminder that selection is not an administrative detail. It is the heart of the exhibit. Choose the species well, match the flora with equal care, and a mixed exhibit can feel coherent, ethical, and alive. Choose at random, and the mix may be colourful, but it will rarely be convincing.
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