British Museum blog

Indigenous Australia: an artist’s story

Abe Muriata, Girramay man and master basket weaver from North Queensland, writes on visiting the British Museum for the opening of the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation.

Muriata is renowned for making bicornual baskets, an elegant and structurally complex form that is unique to the region. His most recent basket, commissioned by the British Museum, is on display in the exhibition.

Abe Muriata, Bicornual basket, 2015. Abe Muriata is represented by the Girringun Aboriginal Arts Centre.

Abe Muriata, Bicornual basket, 2015. Abe Muriata is represented by the Girringun Aboriginal Arts Centre.

To start with, London, it’s a historical place. To be in a historical place like London would make any artist stop and wonder about how a place like this could possibly connect to me, my art or my culture. But it was in London that the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation was held.

An invitation and visit to this event became the highlight of my more than 15 years of basket weaving, of practising my culture and as an artist. Seeing my own work on display at the British Museum made me as proud as the day my first basket was displayed at the Queensland Art Gallery. It was not only an achievement for me but it was there for everyone to see. I’ve taken my work out of my cultural home, the home of my ancestors, and given it to the world.

Abe Muriata studying bicornual baskets in the British Museum store, 2015.

Abe Muriata studying bicornual baskets in the British Museum store, 2015.

In the back of my mind I had to keep telling myself this is London. The city of London itself was so spectacular that I marvelled at the sights, the history, the people and felt the energy. The ever-visible presence of an enduring monarchy fascinated me enough to forget its past dealing with our people and culture and to take in its grandeur. The purpose of my visit coincided with meeting the patron of the exhibition, none other than the royal man himself, HRH Prince Charles.

Abe Muriata and HRH Prince Charles during the opening reception of the exhibition. (Photo: Benedict Johnson)

Abe Muriata and HRH Prince Charles during the opening reception of the exhibition. (Photo: Benedict Johnson)

To have my work included in an exhibition of this calibre, I experienced recognition and respect for me and my culture. When I returned to Australia, wherever I went and whoever I met, people recognised me. I don’t have a Facebook account but people said to me, ‘you are all over Facebook’. I have also had acknowledgement at a Native Title Conference and at other meetings. My involvement in the exhibition has put more spotlight on our rainforest culture and my efforts and those of others to preserve it. This is important, because if you lose a single element of your weaving or of your artefact making or whatever part of your culture you engage with, it is an erosion that gradually washes away at the core of culture. So this spotlight on culture is a way of reminding you and me to help it endure in its fullest and purest form.

In the British Museum I saw my heritage surrounded by long-lost cultures and civilisations from all over the world. To think that my culture has endured so much longer than most can only make me more determined to pass on my culture to the generations following me. My dedication to my culture and the art I create is driven by the loss in the last 20 years or so of tribal elders and leaders whose knowledge may otherwise be lost if it is not celebrated, learned and enjoyed by our next generation.

Abe Muriata watches as British Museum Director Neil MacGregor accepts a gift from Peter Yu, Chair of the National Museum of Australia Indigenous Reference Group.

Abe Muriata watches as British Museum Director Neil MacGregor accepts a gift from Peter Yu, Chair of the National Museum of Australia Indigenous Reference Group.

I am an artist working with the Girringun Aboriginal Art Centre and they have taken me from obscurity to the length and breadth of Australia’s galleries and museums, all the while showcasing this unique culture. All I had to do was to practise my culture and create my art as a traditional Girramay person. So being an artist at Girringun along with the Girramay Elders will ensure that a strong continuation is maintained.

Having seen the old objects of 150 years ago in the exhibition and archival collection at the British Museum, and then looking at my works, it really pleases me to see that there is little or no change in traditional object making, although in some areas modernisation brings our culture new ideas and contemporary forms. So, for me, another world has emerged alongside my ancient culture where traditional materials are complemented with contemporary methods and materials.

I am really looking ahead and striving to maintain and improve the status quo in all aspects of my art-making, cultural activities and responsibilities as a Traditional Owner and growing into an Elder role.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015

Supported by BP

Organised with the National Museum of Australia

Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , ,

Indigenous Australian rock art: Injalak Hill, Gunbalanya

The artists from Injalak Arts and Crafts Centre, Gunbalanya, worked closely with the British Museum on the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation. Here they write on the importance of rock art and its relevance to today’s visitors of West Arnhem Land, Northern Territory, Australia.

Injalak Arts is a unique centre based in the town of Gunbalanya. One of only two fully Indigenous-governed and continuously operating organisations in the town, it plays an important role within the community, functioning as a social hub, a charity and an enterprise that generates livelihoods for local people. The sale of arts and crafts to tourists is an important source of self-generated income for many people, and the Injalak Rock Art Tour developed by the Centre has enabled a fruitful cultural exchange with the Aboriginal people.

Gunbalanya lies at the limits of the Arnhem Plateau, the sandstone escarpment country at the heart of West Arnhem Land. This escarpment, and its outliers such as Injalak Hill in Gunbalanya, is one of the most important rock art areas in the world. It is from this rock art – as well as ceremonial body and object designs, and paintings on the walls of wet season bark shelters – that the art of the Injalak artists finds its origin.

Gabriel Maralngurra and Isaiah Nagurrgurrba are co-managers and founding members of Injalak Arts and Crafts Centre, as well as being widely exhibited artists.

Gabriel Maralngurra and Isaiah Nagurrgurrba are co-managers and founding members of Injalak Arts and Crafts Centre, as well as being widely exhibited artists.

Injalak Hill boasts extensive galleries, literally thousands of paintings scattered amongst the boulders and breathtaking views of floodplains and the famed Arnhem Land escarpment. Injalak Hill was a significant occupation site for the inhabitants of the region.

The paintings in the rock art galleries show continuous habitation over millennia, with images layered over and over one another. Carbon dating shows some are more than 15,000 years old.

Since the beginning of time the traditional owners of West Arnhem Land have used rock art as an important form of visual communication. Together with dance, music and oral stories, rock art has been used to express and pass down ancestral beliefs, traditions and laws regulating the life of the Kunwinjku people of the Northern Territory.

As well as being a form of visual communication, rock art was also made to document daily life. Hunting and harvesting of bush foods still plays an important part in the life of Aboriginal people (bininj), and revolves around the traditional calendar of six distinct seasons. For example, in bangkerreng (the late wet season) the dragonflies over the water tell people that the fish are fat and plentiful. Game and bush tucker are some of the most important subjects in rock art and this continues in the art of today.

X-ray style rock art depiction of a cooked barramundi, Injalak Hill.

X-ray style rock art depiction of a cooked barramundi, Injalak Hill.

Namarnkol, the barramundi, is a very important fish for bininj. Barramundi are found in the ocean, in floodwaters, and in freshwater billabongs, rivers and creeks. In the old days, people used to spear them with djalakirradj (three-pronged fish spears) and walabi (traditional triangular nets). Nowadays, they are caught with fishing lines and modern nets. You can see a bark painting of a barramundi in the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation.

Bark painting of a barramundi, Gunbalanya, about 1961. British Museum Oc1961,02.1

Bark painting of a barramundi, Gunbalanya, about 1961. British Museum Oc1961,02.1

According to the Kunwinjku, Mimihs were the original spirit beings and taught Aboriginal people many of the skills they needed to survive in the bush along with ceremonies, dance and song. These spirits continue to live in rocks, trees and caves but are rarely seen by humans. They are frequently seen in the rock art of Arnhem Land as small, dynamic figures.

Mimih spirits hunting, Injalak Hill.

Mimih spirits hunting, Injalak Hill.

The Kunwinjku of West Arnhem Land, one of the longest continuing Indigenous cultures today, leave a lasting impact on all those who come into contact with them, whether it be through working with them, by visiting Injalak Hill or through the walls of an exhibition. From Gunbalanya to the British Museum in London, one can only hope that we are contributing towards keeping culture strong and sustainable for the generations to come.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015

Supported by BP

Organised with the National Museum of Australia

 Logistics partner IAG Cargo

 The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , ,

Stories of the past and present: Indigenous Australia

Tynan Waring, Indigenous Visitor Services Host at the National Museum of Australia, Canberra, spent three weeks at the British Museum during the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation.

He writes on professional development, educating audiences on Indigenous Australia and holding stone tools used by his ancestors.

Tynan Waring, holding the family guide during a talk to primary school children in the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, 2015.

Tynan Waring, holding the family guide during a talk to primary school children in the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, 2015.

My name is Tynan Waring, and I am an Indigenous Visitor Services Host working for the National Museum of Australia (NMA), in Canberra, Australia’s capital city. I was lucky enough to be selected for a professional development opportunity at the British Museum and was flown to London to work for three weeks around the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation. The exhibition resulted from a joint research project between the institutions and a version of the exhibition called Encounters, focusing on contact between Indigenous Australians and European visitors to our shores, is due to open at the NMA at the end of the year.

I had the honour and privilege to work in many different areas of the British Museum – visitor services, learning services, the Anthropology Library and adult programming. It really was remarkable, despite the vast differences in not only distance and location, but also the themes of the two institutions’ collections, just how similar Museums are. The problems faced by museums and collecting institutions seem universal and even the people working at them almost have doppelgangers, or at least foreign versions of themselves working at other museums.

I was working with the brilliant curatorial staff of the Oceanic collection and I was very fortunate to take a trip to the stores and see and hold some objects that will be displayed in the Encounters exhibition. Even more exciting than that, was the opportunity to connect with my past and my heritage. The British Museum has a vast collection of Indigenous material, even if not permanently displayed and I was able to find stone tools and ochre that my Awabakal ancestors had used on the beaches of the place I was born and raised.

In the Anthropology Library, with more than a little help from the supremely knowledgeable Jim Hamill (Curator, Department of Africa, Oceania and the Americas), I was able to find images of Awabakal men with ritual scarring I had never seen and a photograph of a man labelled Weymera ‘king’ of the Hunter River, at one point recognised by the European settlers as leader of my people. For a person whose heritage was only realised at the age of 14 after extensive research into family history, this provided a connection to my past and where my family has come from. Touching objects used by people I may be descended from, or who knew the people I am descended from, and seeing images of them was a very moving experience.

The Zugubal Dancers performing in the Museum’s Great Court, 2015. (Photo: Benedict Johnson)

The Zugubal Dancers performing in the Museum’s Great Court, 2015. (Photo: Benedict Johnson)

I had a very touching and educational visit, I learnt so much not just about the British Museum’s collection and storied history, but about museums in general, about collecting, about sense of self. I was there during the biannual Origins – Festival of First Nations. I helped to organise the Museum’s Indigenous Australia Friday night late event featuring Alick Tipoti’s Zugubal Dancers and it was wonderful to see Indigenous Australian culture so eagerly enjoyed and accepted.

This makes me very hopeful for the continuation of the partnership between the museums and I hope our exhibition at the NMA continues the illuminating look at the history of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, their cultural items and how collections play a part in that story.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015

Supported by BP

Organised with the National Museum of Australia

Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , , ,

Howzat! The 1868 Aboriginal Australian cricket tour of England

Gaye Sculthorpe, Curator, Oceania, British Museum

The first Australian cricket team to tour England was an all-Aboriginal side in 1868. Between May and October 1868, a group of 13 cricketers, mostly from the state of Victoria, played matches at various towns in England. Before or after the cricket game, they displayed their traditional skills in throwing and dodging spears, boomerangs and clubs. While these performances were popular with the public, the members of the Marylebone Cricket Club were initially reluctant to host the players at Lord’s as they deemed such traditional displays, like other novelty displays such as pony races, unfitting to take place on that ground. The cricket tour occurred not long after the publication of Darwin’s The Origin of the Species in 1859. William Tegetmeier (1816–1912), a poultry fancier and correspondent of Charles Darwin, went to see them play. He subsequently took their physical measurements, arranged for three of them, including Jungunjinuke, to be photographed as three different physical ‘types’ and displayed their weapons in a small museum in the offices of The Field magazine, a publication dedicated to those who shoot, fish and hunt way beyond the call of duty.

Jungunjinuke, or ‘Dick-a-Dick’ (as he was also known), quickly developed a reputation for his skill and dexterity in dodging cricket balls thrown at him, which he would deflect with his spear and club, only rarely being hit. During his time in England, he was noted not only for his cricketing skills, but also his style of fashionable dress, his Swiss clock and his ability to charm an audience. A club used by Jungunjinuke has remained in the UK since that tour and, from 1947, has been housed at the Marylebone Cricket Club. An old paper label stuck on the club is signed ‘GWG’, suggesting it passed through the hands of George W. Graham (1828–1886), the Sydney solicitor who was the co-promoter of the tour. The style of the club is typical of those from western Victoria, which are often referred to as ‘leangles’, used in fighting at close quarters. All members of the team returned to Australia, save for Bripumyarrumin (‘King Cole’) (d. 1868) who is buried in Meath Gardens in east London.

Jungunjinuke’s club from the 1868 Aboriginal cricket team. Western Victoria, about 1868. Marylebone Cricket Club. (on display until 2 August at the British Museum’s BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation).

Jungunjinuke’s club from the 1868 Aboriginal cricket team. Western Victoria, about 1868. Marylebone Cricket Club. (On display until 2 August at the British Museum’s BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation).

Until 9 July 2015, the club associated with Jungunjinuke was the only known artefact associated with the cricket tour known to have survived. What happened to the other artefacts used in demonstrations of skills? A chance find last week has uncovered many of them. During a visit to inspect the Australian collections at the  Royal Albert Memorial Museum and Art Gallery (RAMM) last week to assist with redevelopment of their World Cultures Gallery, I came across a name and date associated with Aboriginal artefacts from the state of Victoria: W. R. Hayman 1868. Eureka!

William Reginald Hayman (1842–1899) was the manager of the Aboriginal team that toured England. He was the eldest son of Philip Charles Hayman, a doctor of Axminster, Devon. In 1858, Hayman emigrated to western Victoria, where most of the cricketers came from. As a key person in organising the tour, he came to England early in 1868 ahead of the cricketers to make arrangements for the tour. The team played 47 matches, the last one 15–17 October at The Oval, London. On 18 October, they left for what has been described as a ‘brief holiday’ in Devon. Some of the Aboriginal cricketers staged a display of traditional skills at Plymouth on 19 October. This included ‘native sports’ of throwing the spear and boomerang. The cricketers sailed from Plymouth on 26 October 1868.

Hayman did not sail on the ship with the cricketers. On 29 October, described as living at Oakhayes House, Woodbury (about 7 miles from Exeter, where his father lived), he donated 12 ‘native weapons’. They included 2 spears, 2 spearthrowers, 1 boomerang, 4 clubs and some firesticks. The objects have remained in the museum since then, but only now has their significance been uncovered.

The 1868 cricket tour of England has been included in a list of 100 defining moments in Australian history. To have identified these Aboriginal artefacts is an amazing discovery that adds tangible evidence to this historic event.

The  Royal Albert Memorial Museum and Art Gallery (RAMM) is delighted to know they are the custodians of this significant collection.

Gaye Sculthorpe, British Museum, & Tony Eccles, Royal Albert Memorial Museum, with artefacts from 1868 tour found at Exeter Museum.

Gaye Sculthorpe, British Museum and Tony Eccles, Royal Albert Memorial Museum and Art Gallery, with artefacts from 1868 tour found at Exeter Museum.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015

Supported by BP

Organised with the National Museum of Australia

Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , , , ,

On wrestlers, rodents and rare discoveries

Celeste Farge, Exhibition Project Curator, British Museum

Bronze statue of an Apoxyomenos. Greek, about 300 BC. Ministry of Culture,Croatia. Image: Mali Losinj Tourist Board / photography by Mr Marko Vrdoljak

Bronze statue of an apoxyomenos. Greek, about 300 BC. Ministry of Culture, Croatia.
Image: Mali Losinj Tourist Board / photography by Mr Marko Vrdoljak.

Many of the objects in Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art have fascinating histories which, because they don’t form part of the essential narrative of the exhibition, are not mentioned in the labels and catalogue. For me, the most compelling is the story of the discovery of the bronze statue of an athlete, most probably a wrestler, and one of the star pieces of the exhibition generously lent by the Ministry of Culture of the Republic of Croatia.

This statue is extremely rare, for very few life-size bronzes have in fact survived. Most were destroyed in late antiquity when they were valued more as scrap metal than as artworks and were melted down for other uses, such as in the manufacture of weapons and armour and the minting of coins. Occasionally a chance discovery, usually from the seabed, resurrects such masterpieces. This bronze statue, dating from around 300 BC, was found by a Belgian tourist diving off the coast of Croatia near the island of Lošinj.

The statue lying on the seabed where it was discovered © Mr Danijel Freka

The statue lying on the seabed where it was discovered. © Mr Danijel Freka

The statue being raised from the sea   © Ministry of Culture, Conservation Department Zagreb

The statue being raised from the sea. © Ministry of Culture, Conservation Department Zagreb

In a carefully planned operation, with additional expertise and financial support from the Oxford Maritime Trust, it was raised in 1999 after having been in the sea for more than 2000 years. The surrounding area was then searched for other finds by using a pneumatic suction pipe, metal detectors and a remote operated device complete with camera but, although some amphora fragments and part of an anchor were found, the only significant item recovered was the base of the statue. It seems, therefore, unlikely that this statue was from a shipwreck. It may perhaps have been thrown overboard to lighten the load when the ship carrying it ran into difficulty during a storm.

The statue needed six years of conservation work eradicating soluble salts and harmful chlorides, removing layers of maritime encrustations, consolidating cracks and breaks, and building an internal support, to restore it to the exceptional condition it is in today. Extensive research on the statue was conducted to gather information on matters concerning the production techniques and composition. The statue had been constructed using the indirect lost wax process and cast in seven separate parts – the head, torso, legs, arms and genitals. Various factors indicate that ancient Greek casting techniques had been used, such as the low lead content, and the skill of the craftsmen is demonstrated in the application of hundreds of small patches to repair casting flaws before the final chasing and polishing and in the precision of the joins.

Remnants of a mouse nest, including straw, fig seeds and cherry stones (with bite marks!), were found inside the left forearm of the statue. At some point after its manufacture, the statue must have toppled over (the weight-bearing leg had been weakened when the clay core in the mould shifted causing bubbles and an unequal thickness of the bronze) damaging the figure’s left sole and right calf, and it is through these areas that the mouse would have been able to crawl in and out. The organic material deposited by the mouse has been carbon dated and the oldest material was found to date from around 50 BC.

It was a thrilling moment when the statue arrived at the British Museum accompanied by a team of guards, conservators and art handlers. It travelled inside a purpose-built hexagonal cage, designed to allow the statue to be moved with ease particularly during conservation work, but also during transport and hoisting onto its plinth.

Known as the ‘apoxyomenos’, which literally means ‘the scraper’, the statue would originally have had in its hands a strigil – a metal implement used for scraping the oil, dust and dirt from the body after exercising and before bathing. Bizarrely, in antiquity this mixture was collected and used for cosmetic and medicinal purposes. In fact, this gloop from the bodies of victorious athletes was especially prized for its healing properties. Statues, like this one, were erected in honour of prizewinning athletes but also as dedications to the gods, for it was believed that the victorious athletes had been favoured by them. Sanctuaries and gymnasia abounded with such statues ensuring the heroic status and, in a sense, immortality of the victors. Although the name of this athlete is no longer known, the fame of the statue lives on.

For more information, see http://www.h-r-z.hr/en/index.php/djelatnosti/konzerviranje-restauriranje/metal/222-hrvatski-apoksiomen

Last chance! Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art is on display until 5 July 2015.

Sponsored by Julius Baer

Additional support

In memory of Melvin R Seiden

Mrs Jayne Wrightsman, OBE

Filed under: Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art, Exhibitions, , , , ,

Collecting Indigenous Australian art

Rachael Murphy, Exhibition Project Curator, British Museum

There should always be controversy in the air surrounding artists and makers, museums and objects and culture… It is this that keeps museums alive and relevant, part of an on-going dialogue and questioning as the past and the present collide and coalesce like a walk in wardrobe of old, deep memories and sparkling new acquisitions.

Judy Watson, artistic fellow

There is no need for me to explain the importance of the contemporary art in the BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation when Judy Watson, who has two prints on display in the show (2015,2004.3 and 2015,2004.4), does it so eloquently. The exhibition showcases some of the most striking work to come out of Australia in the last five years, as well as the breadth and diversity of art forms, from an installation by Tasmanian artist Julie Gough to a basket by Abe Muriata, a master weaver from rainforest Queensland. These pieces pose a range of opinions, statements or questions, contributing to the dialogues throughout the show. The reasons for collecting, commissioning and displaying these works are as diverse as the art forms themselves. It is only, perhaps, the artists’ ability to engage with the visitor, that provides some common ground.

Judy Watson at the British Museum in 2013. The paddle that she is drawing features in one of the prints she produced after this visit, see below. © The Trustees of the British Museum

Judy Watson at the British Museum in 2013. The paddle that she is drawing features in one of the prints she produced after this visit, see below. © The Trustees of the British Museum

Watson, a Waanyi artist, who lives and works in Brisbane, first visited the British Museum and other museum collections in the UK at the end of 1995 and beginning of 1996, beginning a long relationship with UK institutions. She returned to the British Museum in 2013 as an artistic fellow on the research project Engaging Objects, a collaborative research project between the British Museum, the National Museum of Australia and the Australian National University. After this trip Watson produced a series of prints, the holes in the land, which layer delicately etched drawings of Indigenous Australian objects in the British Museum collection over historical plans for the Museum’s building and showcases. Behind these silhouettes are bright, swirling colours, suggesting, perhaps, the blues, greens and yellows of the Australian landscape.

Judy Watson, The Holes in the Land 2, 2015.  (Courtesy of Judy Watson and Grahame Galleries + Editions. Photographer: Carl Warner)

Judy Watson, the holes in the land 2, 2015. 
(Courtesy of Judy Watson and Grahame Galleries + Editions. Photographer: Carl Warner)

Other contemporary works in the exhibition, such as Angela’s Torenbeek’s ghost net basket speak of events that take place far beyond the Museum walls. Ghost nets are fishing nets which have been detached from commercial vessels and drift in the ocean. Many wash up on islands in the Torres Strait, including on the beaches of Torenbeek’s home, on the island of Moa. Nets pose a significant hazard to marine life and weaving provides a way to recycle them. The plastic fibres are hard to weave, but resistant to damage and decomposition. There are parallels with Torenbeek’s own gentle persistence in educating people about ghost nets.

Ghost net basket, 2010. Mahnah Angela Torenbeek (Reproduced by permission of the artist on behalf of the Rebecca Hossack Gallery)

Mahnah Angela Torenbeek, Ghost net basket, 2010. 
(Reproduced by permission of the artist on behalf of the Rebecca Hossack Gallery)

The value of Torenbeek’s work does not lie only in the messages it conveys. The basket on display is small and shallow, its modest form made bold by the bright blue, green and red of the coarse synthetic fibres. Frayed white nets, trailing from tight stitches, evoke feathers, a material that has been used in the Torres Strait for (at the very least) hundreds of years. While many other artists in the Torres Strait and along the northern coastline of Australia weave with ghost nets, Torenbeek’s work stands out for this striking use of colour and form and playful use of materials. Her flair for innovation is apparent in every work, from small baskets to large scale sculptures. In 2012 she collaborated on a giant ghost net crocodile which sat at Bondi Beach in Sydney. More recently she has been using animal bone in her work. As Torenbeek modestly puts it: ‘I like to do something different’. It is a quality that makes her work compelling to collectors, both private and institutional.

The Museum considers many factors when acquiring contemporary works, not least that they complement and enrich existing collections. Private collectors may collect artworks for other reasons, which speak to their personal experiences, interests or aesthetic tastes. Despite this, there are often close parallels between public and private collections, suggesting that while there is no single definition for a good artwork, it is still an interesting question.

For an insight into the world of collecting Indigenous Australian art you can listen to some of the most esteemed collectors, advisors and dealers at the upcoming debate Collecting Indigenous Australian art, chaired by the renowned art dealer Rebecca Hossack, on Friday 03 July.

Thank you, as always to all of the artists and other groups and individuals across Australia who have contributed to this exhibition.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015

Supported by BP

Organised with the National Museum of Australia

Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Event, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , , , , ,

Ancient beauty and modern lives

Richard B. Parkinson, Professor of Egyptology, University of Oxford

It’s hard to walk past so many beautiful naked bodies in a dark room without thinking a bit about sex and love; and in an exhibition like Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art, there’s always the tendency to play the mental game of trying to decide who you fancy most out of all the represented people. The display of male beauty in Greek art has had a huge impact on European culture, and sometimes on very intimate levels, even though the exact role of same-sex desire in ancient Greek society remains controversial. Ancient Greek art has been one of the ways in which LGBT people have recognised their presence in world history, and this capacity of art to help awareness of sexual identity has produced a wonderful continuing dialogue between ancient and modern works.

This struck me particularly when I was in front of the Belvedere Torso, on loan from the Vatican Museums, because it’s displayed next to some of the Museum’s own Michelangelo drawings. This stunning juxtaposition gives a vivid – almost physical sense – of Michelangelo’s deep engagement with classical art. In a culture where sodomites were consigned to hell, Michelangelo’s own attraction to male beauty found a passionate, if uneasy, resolution with his spirituality through classical philosophy and thought. He expressed this not only in his images of muscular male figures but also in poems such as this one of around 1549, which merges his desire for earthly beauty with his love for God:

My eyes, seeking beauty,
and my soul, seeking salvation,
have no other way to rise to heaven except by looking at beautiful things.
From the highest stars, a splendour come down
which draws desire to them,
and which here is called ‘Love’.
The noble heart has nothing to make it burn or love, or to guide it,
except a face as fair as those stars.

Belvedere Torso, 1st century BC. Marble copy after a Greek bronze, probably of the early 2nd century BC. H (including base) 156.5 cm, W 87.5 cm. Vatican Museums, Vatican City

Above: The Belvedere Torso, 1st century BC. Marble copy after a Greek bronze, probably of the early 2nd century BC. H (including base) 156.5 cm; W 87.5 cm. Vatican Museums, Vatican City. Below: Michelangelo’s study of a reclining male nude inspired by the sculpture. Dark red chalk over some stylus underdrawing. Florentine, around 1511. 19.3 x 25.9 cm. British Museum, London 1926,1009.1

26-06-2015 17.40.07

Later, Michelangelo’s own ‘beautiful things’ became works through which gay identity was expressed, with the very 20th-century Benjamin Britten composing a song-cycle of the Renaissance artist’s sonnets. This was dedicated to his life-partner, the singer Peter Pears, and was first performed publicly by the two of them together in the early 1940s, when ‘homosexuality’ was illegal in Britain.

Among the first audiences for the song-cycle was the novelist E.M. Forster (1879–1970), for whom classical culture had also offered a sense of personal (humanist) salvation. In his novel Maurice, young men try to understand their desires for each other through images of Michelangelo’s works and reading Plato’s dialogues, eventually realising that ‘I have always been like the Greeks and didn’t know’ (chap. 11). The novel was written in 1914 and was dedicated ‘to a happier year’ when same-sex love would be regarded as equal. Significantly, a crucial scene of Maurice is set in the British Museum’s classical galleries and the adjacent Assyrian rooms, as Maurice and the gamekeeper Alec finally realise that they are in love, surrounded by ancient art. The novel was magnificently filmed by Merchant Ivory Productions in 1987, on location and (of course) in exactly the right galleries. The film concentrates on the Assyrian rooms, but the Greek sculpture of the Parthenon gallery had already featured in Merchant Ivory’s earlier film of Henry James’ Bostonians, also with a same-sex couple, Olive Chancellor and her beloved Verena Tarrant.

Love in the museum: Maurice and Alec bicker among the Assyrian sculptures and realise they love each other in James Ivory's Maurice (1987). Copyright Merchant Ivory Productions 1987

Love in the museum: Maurice and Alec bicker among the Assyrian sculptures and realise they love each other in James Ivory’s Maurice (1987). Photo: copyright Merchant Ivory Productions 1987

Maurice was filmed in the 1980s, the period of the now infamous Section 28 of the Local Government Act 1988 that prohibited local authorities in England and Wales from ‘promoting’ homosexuality. Attitudes in Britain are thankfully now very different, but I remember the 80s well as a time when it was easy for young people coming out to feel alone: history was almost unremittingly heterosexual, gay stereotypes were often mocking, and there was a general invisibility in culture. Michelangelo and Maurice were hugely reassuring. Memories of these feelings of cultural isolation helped shape a recent British Museum project on LGBT history, which I hoped would help LGBT people find themselves in world history. A long line of very different, interconnected works of art stretches back to those Greek statues, explaining and legitimising the diversity of human desire to modern generations.

Ideas of beauty and desire are culturally constructed in many different ways, but this particularly Greek vision of beauty can still have a personal impact. Standing in front of the hunky Belvedere Torso, I wonder how many people have come to understand their own hearts and identities through looking at these statues carved millennia earlier. The statues don’t even have to be male or naked. Defining beauty also includes one which was much loved by Forster – the (clothed) goddess Demeter from Knidos. The statue features as a symbolic motif in his novel The Longest Journey, and she is in many ways a mythic archetype for his famous mature female characters, such as Mrs Wilcox and Mrs Moore, who embody an instinctive wisdom that sees beyond social conventions and recognises (in the words of the second Mrs Wilcox) ‘that people are far more different than is pretended’ (Howards End, chap. 44).

Marble cult statue of Demeter, goddess of nature. Greek, carved around 360 BC. H. 152 cm. British Museum, London 1859,1226.26

Marble cult statue of Demeter, goddess of nature. Greek, carved around 360 BC. H. 152 cm. British Museum, London 1859,1226.26

Looking at ancient beauty can perhaps encourage our world to adopt a more inclusive attitude towards human diversity – which is still urgently needed now when militant groups are not only overturning ancient statues but also executing gay men by throwing them from buildings. While they are destroying, and more people are dying, Forster’s Demeter sits in the British Museum as a benign and inspiring presence, waiting patiently for that ‘happier year’. It’s now much closer than it was across the world, but not quite with us yet.

Further reading:

B. Parkinson, A Little Gay History: Desire and Diversity across the World (British Museum Press 2013).

M. Forster, Maurice (Penguin Classics 2005)

Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art is on display from 26 March to 5 July 2015.

Sponsored by Julius Baer

Additional support

In memory of Melvin R Seiden

Mrs Jayne Wrightsman, OBE

Filed under: Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art, Exhibitions, , , , ,

Weapons of resistance: Jandamarra, a hero of the Bunuba people

Gaye Sculthorpe, Curator, Oceania, British Museum

Across Australia, each of the many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander groups have historical figures that live on in the memory of people today. For the Bunuba people of the east Kimberley region of north-west Australia, Jandamarra (once referred to by Europeans as ‘ Pigeon’, 1873–1897) is considered a hero of the resistance.

In the 1890s the Kimberley region was a violent place. Bunuba territory was invaded by Europeans looking for land for cattle. Aboriginal people living there resisted these incursions, occasionally attacking individuals. The European settlers called on the police for greater protection. Jandamarra was a young man who first worked for a cattle station owner and then as an Aboriginal tracker for the police. He helped to capture some of his own Bunuba people, and later turned against the settlers and decided to fight in defence of his people and their lands. After killing his colleague Constable Richardson, Jandamarra led a resistance movement for two and a half years in the rugged gorges around the King Leopold Ranges. Eventually he was found by an Aboriginal tracker and shot and killed near Tunnel Creek in 1897. After his death, his head was removed and sent to England. The location of his skull is unknown today. Bunuba people would like to see it returned to their country, and in recent years have been working with historians and other experts to trace and find it.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation brings together what is believed to be Jandamarra’s boomerang, on loan from Museum Victoria, Melbourne, and a spear collected by Inspector Ord, the policeman who led the hunt for Jandamarra. The boomerang is finely decorated with red and white ochre. The spear has a head made of green glass, showing the innovative use of new materials by Aboriginal people in the Kimberley region in the 1890s. Inspector Ord donated the spear and other materials to the British Museum in 1899. He had collected these from various Aboriginal camps during the course of his work. This is the first time that the spear and boomerang (normally housed in London and Melbourne) have been displayed together.

(2)Boomerang  An inscription attributes the boomerang to resistance leader Jandamarra. It has been suggested that he abandoned it after a battle with police.  Kimberley region, Western Australia, around 1890s. Wood, pigment. L. 52.5 cm Museum Victoria, Melbourne X 49848 Courtesy Museum Victoria

Boomerang, made of wood and decorated with pigment. An inscription attributes the boomerang to resistance leader Jandamarra. It has been suggested that he abandoned it after a battle with police. Kimberley region, Western Australia, c.1890s. L. 52.5 cm
Museum Victoria, Melbourne X 49848. Photo: Courtesy Museum Victoria

Wooden spear with a point of green glass, acquired by Inspector C.H. Ord. Kimberley region, Western Australia, around 1890s. L. 1.52 m. British Museum, London Oc1899,-461 Donated by C.H. Ord.

Wooden spear with a point of green glass. Kimberley region, Western Australia, c.1890s. L. 1.52 m. British Museum, London Oc1899,-461. Donated by C.H. Ord.

I am delighted that a Bunuba leader, June Oscar, has contributed to the multimedia guide for the exhibition and participated in opening events. She visited the Museum in 2014 and viewed the objects collected by Inspector Ord. While she has described the sadness in seeing these objects and thinking how they came to be in the possession of Inspector Ord, she also notes that these objects have the potential to tell a truth that should be told to the world. This is a view shared by many Indigenous Australians who have participated in the research project behind the exhibition and whose views were recorded by colleagues at the Australian National University and the National Museum of Australia.

Over the years, the descendants of Inspector Ord and Bunuba people today have discussed these historical events and noted the importance of recognising the difficult past. Bunuba people have commemorated Jandamarra’s story in a number of creative ways, including a new work composed for the Sydney Symphony Orchestra.

As June Oscar says, Jandamarra’s story lives on in current generations of Bunuba people who continue to visit these places and keep his story alive.

‘As far as we’re concerned, Jandamarra lives on. His spirit lives on, his people still live on. His spirit is carried in this country by people who speak the same language as he did. For as long as we’re alive, the children will know the story of Jandamarra.’

‘Alongside… the tragic history of the Bunuba people is the pride that we take in Jandamarra standing up for country, defending country, and displaying his skills, his talents, his knowledge of organising his warriors, and the way he evaded the police for so long.’

You can read more about June’s views in this transcript of her lecture at the opening of the exhibition. The audio recording of this speech will be available here soon.

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015
Supported by BP
Organised with the National Museum of Australia
Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Events relating to the exhibition can be found here

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , ,

What lies beneath: drapery and the suggested form

As a new painting by Alison Watt goes on display at the British Museum, the acclaimed artist talks about the inspiration behind the painting…

From the moment I first heard Ian Jenkins, curator of Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art talk about the Parthenon sculptures, my understanding of them was enriched. And it was as much about the way he spoke as what he said. As with the sculptures themselves, there was an unmistakable rhythm to his words – I was struck by his use of language, its musicality, as he talked of the sculptures in terms of their flow, their movements. Listening to him, it was as though a pulse ran through the stone itself.

I clearly remember my response to these representations in marble, many years ago when I first saw them. It was visceral. Even now, they remain startling to me but ultimately, elusive. They are so full of drama and atmosphere and one of the things that makes them so compelling is their ability to trigger the senses. It’s no wonder that, since their creation, they have been influencing artists throughout history.

In the show it seemed entirely natural to be drawn to the sculpture of Iris, the messenger goddess as a channel for my ideas. She’s a virtuoso performance by her creator; a simply astonishing portrayal of the human form. But Iris is not only a piece about the contingency of the human body. She’s also a piece about fabric. Within this thinly-veiled form, there is an element which goes beyond nature, something which does not exist in real life, and that is the element of fantasy. What we feel when we look at her is as important as what we see.

Marble figure of Iris from the west pediment of the Parthenon. Greek (Athens), about 438–432 BC. H. 135 cm. British Museum 1816,0610.96

Marble figure of Iris from the west pediment of the Parthenon. Greek (Athens), about 438–432 BC. H. 135 cm. British Museum 1816,0610.96

Here, visual reality has been subtly improved and intensified, the fabric itself fetishized, and so it transcends its proper function. The sensual is highlighted with an emphasis on tactile sensation. We also become much more aware of the less tangible features of cloth, such as how it might sound as it moves. And that’s why the use of fabric in this piece is so powerful and makes our response to it so complex. It somehow encapsulates a sense of movement which feels perpetual. As in a fold itself, there is a simultaneous display of two positions. It at once hides and discloses; like a fold there is always a promise to reveal.

My fascination with depictions of drapery began with a childhood visit to The National Gallery and its exquisite collection of old master paintings. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to portrayals of fabric: how it falls, how it moves as the body moves and how it often seems to have its own secret interior. Fabric has been a powerful vehicle for my imagination and the memory of it often conjures sensations that are difficult to describe.

Although my paintings may appear to be devoid of a human presence, there is a suggestion of the body – a body which is absent but implied. While I no longer paint directly from the human figure, I’m still fascinated by it. Indeed I once spent an intense period of ten years working every day with a life model in order to immerse myself in the process of looking. Spending time with another human being in such intimate conditions has the effect of heightening consciousness. A small shift in weight in an observed body becomes a monumental act. As the brain edits what the eye is seeing, it begins to abstract what is keenly observed. The geometric balance, the spacial order so important to the success of a painting comes from this study. I have never looked at the human body in the same way since.

With Iris, the parts that have been discreetly draped reappear in the cloth itself, which clings to her thighs and torso like a second skin. There is no bulk in this drapery which only enhances the erotic tension of the piece. Of course the erotic relies on suggestion and this work is all the more alluring because of what it might reveal. The cloth appears almost like a membrane, an intimate barrier between the body and what exists outside of it. In places it melds with the naked form, tantalisingly emphasising its shape. Therefore the properties of both fabric and body are captured simultaneously, drawing our attention to the behaviour of both.

Iris is a sculpture which is both beautiful and disconcerting. In its now fragmentary condition we are left without its extent. It seems to have no end, and indeed goes on in the imagination. The use of drapery all at once reveals her, conceals her and frames her but it cannot contain her.

Over the years, I’ve moved away from painting directly from life. I found myself looking for other means of representing the human form – ways to suggest the body and its movements. So now the memory of a piece of fabric becomes a metaphor for the body. The severing of drapery from its original narrative gives it added potency, while isolating it from its surroundings heightens our awareness of what is missing – the human presence.

Alison Watt, Himation, 2015. Oil on canvas, 106.7 x 71.1 cm.  Alison’s painting will be on display at the British Museum in Room 18a until 5 September 2015.

Alison Watt, Himation, 2015. Oil on canvas, 106.7 x 71.1 cm. Alison’s painting will be on display at the British Museum in Room 18a until 5 September 2015.

One of the reasons my paintings take their current form is because there are certain proportions that are satisfying and which make sense to me, and that has come from years of studying the human figure – whether it be in a piece of art, often a painting or sculpture, the written word, or even the experience of intimacy. For sure, all of these influences affect how I make my paintings. But above all, painting is an emotional experience for me because it’s about what lies inside, what you can only sense, feel or imagine.

Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art is at the British Museum
 until 5 July 2015.

Sponsored by Julius Baer

Additional support

In memory of Melvin R Seiden

Mrs Jayne Wrightsman, OBE

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online.

Filed under: Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art, Exhibitions, , , ,

Indigenous Australia: multi-sensory engagement for families

Emilia McKenzie, Education Manager (Digital Content), British Museum

Temporary exhibitions at the British Museum are a wonderful opportunity for the Schools and Young Audiences team to think creatively about new ways to engage our family visitors. The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is no exception and is accompanied by a specially devised range of family-friendly activities and events. To create this programme, the Schools and Young Audiences team worked closely with the exhibition’s curatorial and interpretation teams.

Indigenous Australia family guide

Indigenous Australia family guide

For our Indigenous Australia family guide, we wanted to try something a little different, going beyond the traditional medium of paper-based trails. We felt that the content of this exhibition, with its bold range of practical as well as ceremonial objects, lent itself particularly well to alternative formats. Inspired by the collection on display, we decided to create a multi-sensory, three-dimensional interpretive device, featuring replicas of objects or parts of objects from the exhibition. We worked with 3D designers Topographic who used a range of materials including wood and acrylic along with techniques such as etching, lamination and sculpture to produce 6 unique objects with very different textures. Placed around a hoop, the miniature replicas provide a non-linear trail, allowing visitors to dip in and out as they wish.

Detail from the Indigenous Australia family guide: suckerfish

Detail from the Indigenous Australia family guide: suckerfish

In terms of the content, we worked with the exhibition curators and interpretation officer to select the most appropriate objects across the exhibition – objects that young people would find inspiring and which would give families clear ‘ways in’ to the main themes of the exhibition, including ancestry, ritual and livelihood. The layout of the exhibition itself was also a consideration: thinking from the point of view of a young child and whether or not they would actually be able to see the object in question.

Ask for the guide at the exhibition entrance to try it for yourself.

Detail of a mask in the form of a human face and a bonito fish Attributed to Kuduma, Muralag, Torres Strait, Queensland. Turtle shell, goa nut, cassowary feather, shell, paint. H 310 mm. British Museum, London Oc,89+.74

Detail of a mask in the form of a human face and a bonito fish
Attributed to Kuduma, Muralag, Torres Strait, Queensland, before 1888. Turtle shell, goa nut, cassowary feather, shell, paint. H 310 mm. British Museum, London Oc,89+.74

Our craft-based family half-term workshops in the Museum this month will enable participants to build their own ‘fish hats’ inspired by objects in the exhibition, such as this dance mask. Fish are a key symbol in the exhibition and are a vital food source and totemic animal for Indigenous Australians. We wanted to create something that people could wear, and hope that the Museum will be filled throughout half term with ‘schools’ of fish as families wearing their fish hats move around during their visits. Participating families can decorate their hats in natural colours drawn from the palette of the exhibition, with plenty of scope for fun and individuality.

Throughout half-term week, artist David Allsop will be facilitating a collaborative artwork around the theme of ‘journeys’. Families are invited to contribute to the artwork using a colour-coded system representing how and why they have come to the Museum. Based on mark-making and the system of colours as symbols, the final outcome will be a large painting shown on the floor in the same way that paintings from Spinifex communities, Western Australia, are displayed.

Drop by the Great Court between 11.00 and 16.00 during half-term week (25–29 May) to take part in these activities. Tell us that you took part by sharing your artwork on Instagram and Twitter using #IndigenousAustralia. We can’t wait to see what you create!

The BP exhibition Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation is at the British Museum until 2 August 2015
Supported by BP
Organised with the National Museum of Australia
Logistics partner IAG Cargo

The accompanying book is available from the British Museum shop online

Events relating to the exhibition can be found here

Filed under: Australia, British Museum, Event, Exhibitions, Indigenous Australia: enduring civilisation, , , , , , , , , , ,

Receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 14,362 other followers

Categories

Follow @britishmuseum on Twitter

British Museum on Instagram

For our final #MuseumInstaSwap post we’re highlighting the 'Make Do and Mend' campaign of the Second World War, as told by our partner @ImperialWarMuseums in their #FashionontheRation exhibition.

The campaign was launched to encourage people to make their existing supplies of clothes last longer. Posters and leaflets were circulated with advice on subjects including how to prevent moth damage to woollens, how to make shoes last longer or how to care for different fabrics. As the war went on, buying new was severely restricted by coupon limits and no longer an option for many people. The ability to repair, renovate and make one's own clothes became increasingly important. Although shoppers would have to hand over coupons for dressmaking fabric as well as readymade clothes, making clothes was often cheaper and saved coupons. ‘Make Do and Mend’ classes took place around the country, teaching skills such as pattern cutting. Dress makers and home sewers often had to be experimental in their choice of fabrics. Despite disliking much of the official rhetoric to Make Do and Mend, many people demonstrated great creativity and adaptability in dealing with rationing. Individual style flourished. Shortages necessitated imaginative use of materials, recycling and renovating of old clothes and innovative use of home-made accessories, which could alter or smarten up an outfit. Many women used furnishing fabrics for dressmaking until these too were rationed. Blackout material, which did not need points, was also sometimes used. Parachute silk was highly prized for underwear, nightclothes and wedding dresses.

We've really enjoyed working with and learning from our friends at @imperialwarmuseums this week. You can catch up on all our posts and discover many more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap. © IWM (Art.IWM PST 4773 For #MuseumInstaSwap we’re discovering the street style of the Second World War in the #FashionontheRation exhibition at @ImperialWarMuseums. In this archive photo a female member of the Air Raid Precautions staff applies her lipstick between emergency calls.

In wartime Britain it was unfashionable to be seen wearing clothes that were obviously showy, yet women were frequently implored not to let 'standards' slip too far. There was genuine concern that a lack of interest in personal appearance could be a sign of low morale, which could have a detrimental impact on the war effort. The government's concern for the morale of women was a major factor in the decision to continue the manufacture of cosmetics, though in much reduced quantities. Make-up was never rationed, but was subject to a luxury tax and was very expensive. Many cosmetics firms switched some of their production to items needed for the war effort. Coty, for example, were known for their face powder and perfumes but also made army foot powder and anti-gas ointment. Make-up and hair styles took on an increased importance and many women went to great lengths to still feel well-dressed and stylish even if their clothes were last season's, their stockings darned and accessories home-made. As with clothing, women found creative ways around shortages, with beetroot juice used for a splash of lip colour and boot polish passing for mascara.

Discover more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap © IWM (D 176) In the @ImperialWarMuseums exhibition ‘Fashion on the Ration: 1940s street style’ we can see how men and women found new ways to dress while clothing was rationed. Displays of original clothes from the era, from military uniforms to utility underwear, reveal what life was really like on the home front in wartime Britain.

Despite the limitations imposed by rationing, clothing retailers sought to retain and even expand their customer base during the Second World War. Britain's high street adapted in response to wartime conditions, and this was reflected in their retail ranges. The government intervened in the mass manufacture of high street fashions with the arrival of the Utility clothing scheme in 1942. Shoppers carefully spent their precious clothing coupons and money on new clothes to make sure their purchases would be suitable across spring, summer and autumn and winter. Despite the restrictions, the war and civilian austerity did not put an end to creative design, commercial opportunism or fashionable trends on the British home front.

#FashionontheRation exhibition runs @imperialwarmuseums until 31 August.

Discover more stories from London’s museums with #MuseumInstaSwap. For our final day of #MuseumInstaSwap we’re learning about the Second World War @ImperialWarMuseums, and discovering the impact of the war on ordinary people. 
Clothes were rationed in Britain from 1 June 1941. This limited the amount of new garments people could buy until 1949, four years after the war's end. The British government needed to reduce production and consumption of civilian clothes to safeguard raw materials and release workers and factory space for war production. As with food rationing, which had been in place since 1940, one of the reasons for introducing civilian clothes rationing was to ensure fairness. Rationing sought to ensure a more equal distribution of clothing and improve the availability of garments in the shops.

As this poster shows, the rationing scheme worked by allocating each type of clothing item a 'points' value which varied according to how much material and labour went into its manufacture. Eleven coupons were needed for a dress, two needed for a pair of stockings, and eight coupons required for a man's shirt or a pair of trousers. Women's shoes meant relinquishing five coupons, and men's footwear cost seven coupons. When buying new clothes, the shopper had to hand over coupons with a 'points' value as well as money. Every adult was initially given an allocation of 66 points to last one year, but this allocation shrank as the war progressed. © IWM (Art.IWM PST 8293) This week on @instagram we’ve joined up with other London museums to highlight our shared stories. Our partner is @imperialwarmuseums, whose incredible collection brings people’s experiences of modern war and conflict to life. Follow #MuseumInstaSwap to discover some of the intriguing historical connections we have found, as well as insights into everyday life during wartime. 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
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 14,362 other followers

%d bloggers like this: