British Museum blog

Grayson Perry, a pot and me


Ian Jenkins, Senior curator, British Museum

I begin this post as a failure – that is to say – somebody (disarmingly described by him as ‘brilliant and funny’ but) unable to persuade my good friend Grayson Perry of the merits of Greek sculpture.

To underline this point, he has depicted me on a pictorial vessel in his current exhibition at the British Museum, The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman. I am shown, wielding a blood-dripping sword, defending the legacy of ancient Greece in the form of a Greek temple. The reference here is the ongoing conversation I have with Grayson about his view of Greek art and sculpture.

Ian Jenkins in warrior mode on the vase 'Grumpy Old God', Grayson Perry, 2010

It’s a matter of principle with Grayson that he regards Greek art as posh people’s stuff and associates it with all that he despises in Establishment art history. Although I wield the sword, it’s Grayson who sees himself as the artisan warrior and The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman is his personal commemoration of the lives of all those nameless craftsmen who created the majority of the objects in the British Museum.
A question I have for Grayson is what about the nameless Greek artisans who built the Greek temples and carved the many sculptures that we have in the Museum? Why are they to be excluded from his church of craftsmen?

I say this in the spirit of the good-natured dialogue Grayson and I have been having for approaching two years. In my capacity as a curator, I assisted him in various ways including delightful car journeys to the Museum store rooms at Blythe House – ironically in that part of west London we call Olympia – if not, in George’s café over delicious bacon sandwiches and milky coffee. I would find myself enthralled by Grayson’s effervescent personality, his natural intelligence and his remarkable tendency to speak in poetic aphorism. Sometimes the things he said seemed so profound as to leave me reeling and I could only reply ‘I’m going to have to think about that one Grayson.’

The striking thing about introducing Grayson to the collections was that while others might have selected the material they wanted to feature by a process of elimination based on the things that were put before them, he seemed always to have in his head a fully formed idea of what it was he wanted. As often as not he shook his head when shown what I thought would be appropriate, declaring the object to be not what he was looking for. And that, I think, is the essential difference between how a curator might approach an exhibition – laboriously sorting and collecting material – where Grayson had in his mind’s eye a ready formed idea of what he wanted and his adventure into the reserves of the Museum was a search for the desired objects.

The thing about Grayson is that he is universally regarded by all those who had the pleasure of working with him as a thoroughly nice bloke with natural intelligence and charisma and none of the pretensions of the celebrity artist that might be found in other personalities. I hope he found in us his extended family and in the British Museum, a new home. He became, and remains, one of us and in his own way became a curator.

Grayson Perry: The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman
is supported by AlixPartners, with Louis Vuitton.
Book tickets now

Filed under: Exhibitions, Grayson Perry: The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman

7 Responses - Comments are closed.

  1. Mandy says:

    I understand this situation and though I never worked with Grayson Perry, for years I laboured to put contemporary artists in touch with those parts of the NHM collections I thought might be most interesting to them. I learned that you have to listen very carefully to have a chance of getting inside someone’s skin, sufficiently to locate objects that have meaning for them. Sometimes an artist’s vision is so strong you quickly establish a rapport and a whole catalogue of “the right stuff” springs into your curatorial mind. Some artists, I’m thinking Mark Dion for example, are interested in the way museums work and how curators approach things so the battle is half won at the outset. At other times you have to go walkabout through endless store rooms before ideas begin to crystallize and the light of inspiration and recognition starts to glow. I envy you this project Dr. Jenkins.

    Like

  2. tabytha says:

    Yea i would agree with Mandy

    Like

  3. corrie67 says:

    I’ve never met Grayson Perry although I have the same impression of him as you have had. An affable artist, a man who doesn’t follow the tribe, he doesn’t strive for status but works against elitism. He is in my top 10, as a lecturer in both ceramics and art history this is a special place to be.

    Like

  4. John Lindsay says:

    Surely the elite art thing rests on the role of the pots? The pots in Athens time of pot making are dealing with earlier time of people such as Troilos or Leagros, or (and now make a long list) so why are pot time people interested in Troilos, or Leagros, and in particular, how they are depicted, for example the pot recently in Luton, with a Troilos scene and a Leagros scene. What is being said by putting these together on the same pot?

    Like

  5. John Lindsay says:

    Grayson incidently wrote in the catalogue that he is an artist not an historian, so the comment about the class nature of an interest in pots must be seen as a political, or theoretical statement, but that cannot be unhistorical?

    So he might not be telling the truth?

    Like

  6. lindanorris says:

    This is all very well, but I have been too busy being a craftsperson and actually making something to book a ticket to see the exhibition next week! Anyone got any suggestions as to how I might get one?

    Like

  7. Lars Tharp says:

    A heartening message, Dr J !
    Grayson has hit on the fact that “Modern” Museums and Galleries (i.e. 19thC and later) have seamlessly taken on a very large part of the function medieval of cathedrals, giving Mankind a new script and narrative in a post-Darwinian Universe. Just look at the architecture. And the lowered voices of those come to worship. The museum and gallery-going public is a congregation of “believers” drawn too the presence of Relics, objects created by fellow humans. Whether near or far in time and place, we can somehow “commune” through objects with a larger Humanity; or, in the case of geological specimens, exhibits can place us in a time-frame which emphasises our transient moment of consciousness in an infinite Universe. (How can a Creationist visit the NAtural History Museum without emerging as a “convert”?) Yes, going to a museum is like going to church. As with holy bones, the “power” of the exhibits depends largely on our own inner creed and/or the narrative we are offered in descriptions and captions; we project our combined understandings onto the Object: “knowing” this to be part of The True Cross, Mohammet’s footprint, the Buddha’s toe or Guy Fawkes’ lantern makes us see it quite differently from our innocent neighbour. Sometimes convincing, sometimes genuine, sometimes Fake…we annoint the Object with Meaning. The greater the skill and effort demonstrated by the craftsman in its creation, the more compelling its power. The Craft of the Potter…. “Kraft” equals “Power”. Nothing proclaimed this better than the BM’s “History of the World” project alongside the magical Grayson Perry exhibition where at every turn we were challenged to see how we see.
    (Loved the portrait of IJ on the pot.)

    Like

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 14,347 other followers

Categories

Follow @britishmuseum on Twitter

British Museum on Instagram

As part of our #MuseumInstaSwap with @ImperialWarMuseums, we’ve been given special access to the Churchill War Rooms – located deep below the streets of Westminster.
This is Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s bedroom, which includes his private desk, briefcase and papers, his bed and chamber pot and even an original cigar! The bedroom is located close to the Map Room, keeping Churchill as close as possible to the epicentre of Cabinet War Rooms.
Following the surrender of the Japanese Forces the doors to the War Rooms were locked on 16 August 1945 and the complex was left undisturbed until Parliament ensured its preservation as a historic site in 1948. Knowledge of the site and access to it remained highly restricted until the late 1970s when @ImperialWarMuseums began the task of preserving the site and its contents, making them accessible to as wide an audience as possible and opening them to the public in 1984.
Discover more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap We’re exploring the Churchill War Rooms – the secret underground headquarters of the British government during the Second World War – in partnership with @ImperialWarMuseums for #MuseumInstaSwap.
The fear that London would be the target of aerial bombardment had troubled the government since the First World War and in 1938 the basement of a Whitehall building was chosen as the site for the Cabinet War Rooms. From 1940 to 1945 hundreds of men and women would spend thousands of vital hours here and it soon became the inner sanctum of British government.
Here you can see the wall of the Map Room, detailing the positions of British convoys across the world, which has not changed since 1945! Today in #MuseumInstaSwap we’re beneath the streets of Westminster to discover the hidden secrets of the #WW2 Cabinet War Rooms, which is part of @ImperialWarMuseums.
This is the underground bunker that protected the heart of Britain’s government during the Second World War as Prime Minister Winston Churchill and his inner circle plotted the route to Allied victory. It’s an amazing experience to step back in time and walk in the footsteps of Churchill, glimpsing what life would have been like during the tense days and nights of the Second World War. This archive photo shows Churchill at his desk in the Map Room at the Cabinet War Rooms. Beside him, Captain Pym of the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve (RNVR) takes a telephone call. To this day, the Map Room has remained exactly as it was left on the day the lights were switched off in 1945.
© IWM (HU 44788) The collections of the @ImperialWarMuseums present stories of wartime life from many perspectives. During the First World War, hunger seriously affected the civilian populations of all the combatant nations.
Germany introduced numerous government controls on food production and sale, and these rationing cards show how the distribution of essentials such as meat, bread and milk was restricted. But the British naval blockade caused real suffering, even starvation. Serious shortages of food and resources led to price rises, riots and strikes.
Discover more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap In the First World War Galleries of @ImperialWarMuseums there are many stories of what life was like for ordinary civilians. These ration books show how staple foodstuffs like meat, butter and sugar were carefully distributed in the UK, where hunger caused by naval blockages was a serious threat on the home front.
The government introduced rationing in London early in 1918 and extended it nationwide by the summer. People now got fair shares of food and although supplies were limited, nobody starved. British civilians defied German expectations by accepting this state intrusion into their daily lives.
Discover more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap MuseumInstaSwap Today for #MuseumInstaSwap we’re exploring the fascinating First World War Galleries at @ImperialWarMuseums, to learn more about the impact of the war on ordinary people.
Hunger seriously affected the civilian populations of all the combatant nations. Agriculture and food distribution suffered as a result of the war, and naval blockades reduced food imports, which forced up prices and encouraged hoarding. Governments responded by putting price controls on staple foodstuffs.
Women and children queuing for food became a common sight in cities across Europe. This photograph from the archives of @ImperialWarMuseums shows food queues in Reading, England. The need to queue was lessened when rationing was introduced during 1918.
© IWM (Q 56276)
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 14,347 other followers

%d bloggers like this: