
Two families of exhibit, one ball spec: ball pits, bought by the square metre, and ball walls, bought by the 1200 mm module. Between them sit the lifts and drops that carry the ball back to the top. Fourteen wall modules, twenty-nine standalone machines, two reference layouts — and the physics that makes a ball gallery count as a science gallery.
Almost everything sold as ball play is one of two products, and confusing them is why ball budgets go wrong. A ball pit is bought by floor area: a bounded volume of balls drawn to your room, with depth, edge and a cleaning regime. A ball wall is bought by the module: a run of wall-mounted mechanisms on one grid, each taking a single ball and handing it on. The pit is where the ball lives. The wall is where the ball works.
A bounded volume of balls, drawn to your room. Area, depth and edge profile are the design decisions; the ball count follows from them.
A run of wall-mounted mechanisms on one grid. Each module takes one ball and hands it on; the wall is as long as the room allows.
The two families only work as a loop. A ball leaves the pit, climbs a lift, works its way down the wall or through a drop, and lands back where it started. A wall bought without a return run arrives with a blower that is too loud; a pit bought without a wall is forty thousand balls with nothing to do.
Ball play needs no instructions, no staff and no power to work. That is exactly why it is the hardest kind of exhibit to specify well — everything that goes wrong does it quietly, in year two.
A child is in the pit before the parent has finished reading the sign. No buttons, no sequence, no wrong way to do it — which is why ball play absorbs the overflow from every other hall.
Ball play is the reason a family comes back in three weeks rather than in a year. It is the anchor the rest of the building borrows footfall from, and it is the first thing a returning child runs to.
Anyone can buy a net and a thousand balls. What separates a pit at year three from a pit at month eight is the ball washer, the air path, and the detail that stops a ball jamming at 1.6 m.
A ball gallery is the cheapest physics gallery a museum can build, because every machine in it is a demonstration that runs without power, staff or explanation. Western science centres sell ball walls on exactly this basis — Bernoulli's principle, stored energy, simple machines — and the labels do the rest. Canadian and American fabricators advertise a ball wall by naming the principles it demonstrates. Here is what our range demonstrates, and the line we would put on the panel.
Fast-moving air has lower pressure than the still air around it, so a ball dropped into a vertical air stream is pushed back into the middle of the stream and floats there. It is the same effect that lifts a wing, and the same reason you are told to stand back from a platform edge. Our air cannon, air maze, balloon lift and pedal blower are all built on it.
Panel copyThe air is moving fastest in the middle of the stream — and fast air pushes least. The still air outside pushes the ball back in.
Every ball lifted to the top of a wall carries energy it will spend on the way down. A cascade tower, a coaster loop and a stepped drop are the same experiment at three scales: height in, speed out. Nothing in the zone works unless something else has already paid to lift the ball.
Panel copyThe ball has not done any work yet. Everything it is about to do was paid for on the way up.
A spiral lift is an Archimedes screw. A ferris wheel is a wheel and axle. A tipper is a lever with a counterweight. The classical simple machines are all present at child scale, and none of them are labelled as such — which is exactly why they work.
Panel copySix simple machines move everything in the world. This wall has four of them.
Drop one ball through a field of pegs and nobody can say where it lands. Drop a thousand and the pile underneath takes a shape you can predict exactly. Our probability sorter and probability combiner are Galton boards: the classic demonstration that individual chance and collective order are the same thing.
Panel copyNo single ball is predictable. Ten thousand balls are.
A heavier ball spins a three-arm spinner further. A ball threading a field of posts arrives at the bottom slower than anyone expects. Both are momentum and energy loss, felt before they are understood — which is the order children learn in.
Panel copyWatch the spinner. Then try a heavier ball. Then explain why.
Panel graphics are supplied as vector artwork in your typeface and language, blank or pre-printed. The physics is written by us; the voice should be yours.
Fourteen mechanisms, each a self-contained 1200 × 1200 × 200 mm module with its own ball port and return chute. Hang them in any order on one rail; change the order in year four without touching the building. Open-panel or sealed clear front.
The largest ball gallery we have built runs 30 × 18 m under a 6.4 m ceiling. Sixteen machines share one ball spec: a ball leaves the pit, goes up a spiral lift, crosses the room on an overhead track, drops through a maze and lands back in the pit. Nothing is a standalone unit — the lift is sized by the drop it feeds, and the drop by the pit underneath it.
Neither sheet is a product. One is the layout a child walks through, one is the set-out the factory builds from — both get redrawn against your room.

Machines run along two walls, and the thing the room is built around sits in the middle: a hub that lifts the balls, spins them out and sends them down one long transfer line to the far side. A child follows the ball instead of standing at a single machine, and the open middle stays clear for prams, benches and a class moving through.

The same zone as a set-out drawing: every machine, every wall module and every lane on one sheet, dimensioned from the columns — overall size, hub radius, clearance past each wall run. This is the sheet the factory builds from, and the one we redraw when your hall is not this shape.
Balls, air, steel and structure. Four things decide whether the zone is still open in year three — and none of them are visible in a render.
φ75 mm food-grade LLDPE as standard, in a wall thickness that survives a full adult step. Anti-static and odour-free, with masterbatch colour rather than paint — painted balls flake into the pit within a season.
Blower, pipe diameter and run length are sized together. A 75 mm ball needs different pressure from a 90 mm ball, and every bend costs pressure — which is why walls bought as a kit usually arrive with a blower that is too loud.
The ball washer is part of the quote, not an accessory. Balls run on a wash cycle, the pit is swept nightly and the mat is lifted on a schedule. A pit without a washer is a pit that gets closed in month eight.
Edge height, net tension, fall height and padding thickness are set against the age band the pit is sold for. Frames are rated for a full ball load plus a hanging child, and every release point is guarded.
Power — every blower, pump and controller runs on a universal 100–240 V AC, 50/60 Hz input, so the same zone ships to Japan at 100 V, the United States at 120 V, the UK and Europe at 230 V and Hong Kong at 220 V with no step-down transformer. Long air runs are built to 380–480 V three-phase.
Attach a theme outline, a floor plan, or nothing at all — a photo of the space is enough to start. Quotations are issued against a real exhibit list, not per-square-metre guesses.
Scan to add us