British Museum blog

Traces of the past: rock art and life in ancient North Africa

Painted and engraved rock art and graffiti from Aharar Mellen, Acacus Mountains, Fezzan District, Libya

Victoria Suzman, project cataloguer, African rock art image project, British Museum

Engraved elephant, Acacus Mountains, Libya

Engraved elephant, from Wadi Raharmellen, Acacus Mountains, Fezzan District, Libya (all images below are from this same site). © TARA / David Coulson 2013,2034.1630

Engraved elephant, from Wadi Raharmellen, Acacus Mountains, Fezzan District, Libya. Image digitally modified. © TARA / David Coulson 2013,2034.1630

Engraved elephant (image digitally modified). © TARA / David Coulson 2013,2034.1630

In a valley of Libya’s Acacus Mountains, in the middle of the Sahara Desert, an elephant steps out from under an overhang of red rock. Giraffes, cows, camels, people, a horse and a hare are there too. They may seem out of place in such a harsh environment, but they are not lost: they have been there for thousands of years, painted and engraved on the rock shelter wall.

Rock shelter wall with multiple paintings and engravings of humans, cows, camels,  ostriches, giraffes, an elephant, Libyan-Berber script and unidentified quadrupeds. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1563

Rock shelter wall with multiple paintings and engravings of humans, cows, camels, ostriches, giraffes, an elephant, Libyan-Berber script and unidentified quadrupeds. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1563

The African rock art image project team here at the British Museum is currently cataloguing photographs of rock paintings and engravings from Libya, Morocco and Algeria to add to the British Museum’s Collection database. Already, over 4,000 records from these countries, as well as from Egypt and Sudan, can be seen online. You can find out why we’re cataloguing almost 25,000 images from the archives of the Trust for African Rock Art by reading our previous blog post.

The photographs depict rock art from throughout the continent, created over millennia and encompassing diverse subjects and styles, sometimes represented side by side on the same rock surface. This Libyan site, in Wadi Raharmellen, is just such an example, with its variety of depictions and inscriptions made by different hands. So who created these particular images, and how old are they?

The earliest rock art in the Acacus is thought to consist of engravings of wild animals, such as the elephant and the giraffes. Archaeological evidence dates early hunter-gatherers here from around 9000 BC, during the Sahara’s last wet period, when the area was less arid and supported such large animals, which now only live much further south.

Detail from on wall of rock shelter, showing naturalistic figure of cow in red, upright and facing left. © TARA / David Coulson 2013,2034.1626

Detail from on wall of rock shelter, showing naturalistic figure of cow in red, upright and facing left. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1626

It is sometimes possible to estimate the earliest date at which rock art could have been made based on the first known introductions of the domestic animals they depict to this part of the world: cattle (from about 7,000 years ago), horses (from about 3,000 years ago) and camels (from about 2,000 years ago).

Engraved Libyan-Berber script, with horse and two giraffes (facing right). © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1578

Engraved Libyan-Berber script, with horse and two giraffes (facing right). © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1578

Engraved Arabic script. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1575

Engraved Arabic script. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1575

In this rock shelter, the bright white figure of a camel is painted over an engraved elephant. To the right of this, the necks of two engraved giraffes have inscriptions all over them: the writing is Libyan-Berber (an ancestor of modern Tifinagh script), which is not fully understood. The presence of Arabic, carved further along the rock face, seems to bring the story of the use of this great communal canvas into recent times.

The dating of rock art is notoriously difficult. Although paintings here appear to be younger than the oldest engravings, the tradition of engraving endured. Step back a few paces from the small elephant, and it is dwarfed by another image to the right: the outline of a cow, not painted like the red one above, but incised deeply into the rock.

Engraved cow and antelope hoofprints. © TARA / David Coulson 2013,2034.1572

Engraved cow and antelope hoofprints. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1572

Further along is an ostrich carved with equal conviction. This might be contemporaneous with the cow, as there was a period of overlap when cattle herders and animals such as ostriches and gazelle coexisted. Recent archaeological evidence from this area also seems to indicate that people were corralling, if not domesticating, wild sheep here before cattle arrived. Perhaps nowhere is the intermingling of wild and domestic animals better illustrated than in the centre of the panel, where the engraved hoof-prints of an antelope and a cow are printed into the rock face, side by side.

Engraved human figure with two painted ostriches, Libyan-Berber script and (cut-off at right), painted human and camel figures and engraved rump of elephant

Engraved human figure with two painted ostriches, Libyan-Berber script and (cut off at right, painted human and camel figures and engraved rump of elephant. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1603

Ostriches are the only wild animals painted on this panel: three small, white ostrich figures are shown one behind the other, facing left, below the more recently painted series of camels, with their stylised drivers and raised arms. Both of these processions are dwarfed by the engraved human figure to their right, striding purposefully towards them, whose delicately lifelike engraved outline implies a different time and artistic tradition from the creator of the daubed, faceless camel-drivers.

These human figures, depicted among the animals, serve as a reminder of the different creators of this art, who came from different time periods and cultures, and for whom the images must have had different personal meanings and significances. This, in turn, cautions researchers of the difficulty in ascribing overarching interpretations and motivations to rock art, since it is not a genre with specific traditions, but rather the use of a variety of possible techniques to mark a durable and abundant natural canvas: rock. Some images may have been made for religious purposes, some with the aim of specific communication; still others may be products of experimentation, or even of boredom.

The project covers rock art spanning thousands of years, over an entire continent. Such breadth and variety throws up many challenges and questions, as well as imagery and evidence for various practices and material cultures. As we progress down through Africa, we’ll be updating our project pages with articles and discussions on these themes, as well as updates and features on individual sites and images. We hope you will join us on our digital journey as we explore this rich artistic heritage.

Engraving of a hare facing right. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1630

Engraving of a hare facing right. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1630

Engraving of a hare facing right. Image digitally modified. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1630

Engraving of a hare facing right. Image digitally modified. © TARA / David Coulson. 2013,2034.1630

The African rock art image project is supported by the Arcadia Fund.

Filed under: African rock art, Collection, , , , , , , , ,

One night at the Museum: moving Dürer’s paper triumph

Joanna Kosek, conservator, British Museum

Preparing for the move.

Preparing for the move.

Once the final visitor had departed from the Museum on Monday 14 July 2014 at 5.30pm a sizable team of specialists consisting of heavy-object handlers; exhibition designers, curators, conservators and photographers assembled in Room 12a in front of the world-famous woodcut of the Triumphal Arch by Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528).

Albrecht Dürer, The Triumphal Arch, woodcut print on paper. (E,5.1)

One of the largest prints ever produced, this fantastic arch on paper was commissioned by the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I (r. 1486–1519) to rival the arches of the ancient Roman Emperors as his own propaganda piece. Unlike the stone forerunners of antiquity, his print came in multiple copies out of Dürer’s workshop for distribution throughout the Holy Roman Empire. The giant print measures nearly 4 x 3 metres and was originally printed from 195 separate woodblocks. The copy in the British Museum’s collection arrived in 1834, and was eventually housed in its current enormous metal frame in the 1970s.

Now it was needed to be the star in the new Asahi Shimbun Display Dürer’s Paper Triumph: the arch of the Emperor Maximilian in Room 3. Our task that night was to take it out of the frame and remove the glass in preparation for its move across the Museum. There were many unknowns ahead of us – we didn’t know precisely how the frame was constructed or attached to the wall. All we knew for certain was that the whole thing was extremely solidly made and incredibly heavy.

The glass taped up and the print in the process of being detached from the wall.

The glass taped up and the print in the process of being detached from the wall.

Fig 2 ii_544x725

This operation was preceded by months of planning and generated the fattest risk assessment folder ever seen. We began by taping the glass using the toughest tapes in the building, after which we had to lift the frame from the wall. This turned out to be fixed to large steel brackets bolted to the gallery wall and must have weighed nearly half a tonne. This first operation took at least four hours and we all held our breath until the frame, ingeniously, was raised and detached by a large lifting frame, normally used by the National Gallery to take their largest altarpieces off display and kindly lent to us for the job.

Removing steel frame components

Removing steel frame components

We could then dismantle the frame into four separate components. Once this was done we could assess the construction of the mount and backing. It was at this stage that we also realised that we were dealing with 10mm thick plate glass weighing about 150kg in total.

It took some four hours of carefully considered steps before, at around 3am, the glass was finally separated from the print with full precision and total control. The print, escaped from the green-tinted glass, turned out to be a beautiful impression on choice early 16th-century paper.

The plate glass detached from the print.

Plate glass detached from the print.

The plate glass swivelled to lay flat on the floor.

Plate glass swivelled to lay flat on the floor.

At last Dürer’s masterpiece could be fixed to a temporary aluminium support frame and screwed onto the wall without the threat of the glass breaking. Meanwhile, glass experts attached massive spider-like suckers to the centre of the glass, swivelled it flat on the floor, and cut it into metre-square pieces for safe disposal. It was now around 6am.

The print protected and ready for hoarding.

The print protected and ready for hoarding.

Hoarding being built around the Triumphal Arch.

Hoarding being built around the Triumphal Arch.

The moment the glass was wheeled out and we were all ready for bed, a team of joiners arrived to put up a protective hoarding around the print. They had exactly three hours before the Museum opened and worked like the flying squad, assembling 20 large panels into a neat white enclosure within the Minoan Gallery. I was handed the key to the great treasure chest just as the first visitor arrived at 10am on Tuesday morning.

The Asahi Shimbun Displays Dürer’s paper triumph: the arch of the Emperor Maximilian is in Room 3, from 11 September to 16 November 2014
Supported by The Asahi Shimbun

Filed under: Exhibitions, , ,

Exhibiting Germany

Barrie Cook, exhibition curator, British Museum

Some exhibitions almost create themselves: the subject is distinctive and circumscribed, the narrative is relatively straightforward, the star objects practically move themselves into place. There is plenty of work, of course, but curatorially there is a clear vision. However, the exhibition that I have recently been working on, Germany: memories of a nation (16 October 2014 – 25 January 2015), has been very different. The project of using objects to present the story of a modern European nation, how it views its present and its past, and how those views came to be formed, would always be a challenging one, but to attempt it for Germany, of all countries, could easily be thought impossible. Maybe ridiculous.

It is, of course impossible in the strictest sense. There are entire museums in Germany today devoted to telling the story of the nation, notably the German Historical Museum in Berlin (a generous lender to the exhibition) and the German National Museum in Nuremberg. How can one attempt the same thing in a single exhibition? Nevertheless, on the assumption that all such attempts are partial, a specific approach and a different perspective might perhaps offer something worthwhile. Whether this exhibition achieves this, is for course for the visitor to decide.

Wir sind ein Volk placard © Deutsches Historische Museum

Wir sind ein Volk placard © Deutsches Historische Museum

Our approach has been to take a cue from one of the many Germany-related anniversaries that have punctuated public awareness in 2014. The 100th anniversary of the start of the First World War has dominated, of course, with a reasonable amount of attention also on the impact of 1714, the Hanoverian succession. However, Germany: memories of a nation will begin with the anniversary of a much more recent event, one which many of us, if prodded, will remember. In November 1989, after weeks of protests, the East German government permitted free access to the West for its citizens and set Germany on the swift road to a unification that would be in place by the following October. The first object the visitor will see inside the exhibition itself will be a home-made placard from a demonstration in East Berlin: cut in the shape of the united Germany, coloured like the German flag and carrying the text: Wir sind ein Volk – we are one people.

The Strasbourg clock, Isaac Habrecht, 1589

The Strasbourg clock, Isaac Habrecht, 1589

The Germany on this placard, the one unification created in 1990, was a new Germany with new borders, a silhouette previously unknown to any historical atlas. How this Germany reflects, echoes and remembers older Germanies is the focus of the exhibition. Its geography is therefore much wider than that of modern Germany, in acknowledgement of centuries of frontier changes and the cultural consequences of these. The exhibition visits Basel and Strasbourg, Königsberg and Prague, when they were partly or wholly German cities. We look at the Strasbourg clock, a German speciality object made by a German craftsman working in a German-speaking city that plays – on the hour – a German hymn by Martin Luther. Could anything be more German?

Despite its geographic breadth, we still had to impose limits on the scope of the exhibition. We accepted early on that the coverage would go back no further than the 15th century, the age of Gutenberg, a man who arguably changed the world more than any other German. The oldest objects in the exhibition, therefore, are printed ones: a copy of the Gutenberg Bible among them, loaned by the British Library. Despite this chronological limitation, the range is still vast. Material produced by Martin Luther, Dürer, Goethe, Caspar David Friedrich and Käthe Kollwitz sits alongside the exquisite decorative and mechanical work of a host of engravers, goldsmiths and print-makers in materials that range from amber and gold to iron and paper.

Replica crown of the Holy Roman Empire, 1913. © Anne Gold, Städtische Museen for the City Hall, Aachen

Replica crown of the Holy Roman Empire, 1913. © Anne Gold, Städtische Museen for the City Hall, Aachen

The object selection in general was based on an assumption that most objects would be doing double duty, being attractive – or at least interesting – in themselves, but also making an additional point about German history, German culture and German identity. Sometimes a replica of an original object, rather than the original itself, could make an important contribution. The ancient crown of the Holy Roman Empire cannot by law leave Austria, but we were able to borrow a copy from Aachen made by order of Kaiser Wilhelm II in 1913 for an exhibition that was never held, an object that perhaps encapsulates modern Germany’s complex legacy.

The Four Evangelists (Luke), Tilman Riemenschneider, 1490–2 © Antje Voijt-SMB-Skulpturensammlung

The Four Evangelists (Luke), Tilman Riemenschneider, 1490–2 © Antje Voijt-SMB-Skulpturensammlung

Postcard advertising the Bauhaus exhibition Kunst und Technik, eine neue Einheit (Art and Technology, a new union), Paul Klee (1879–1940)

Postcard advertising the Bauhaus exhibition Kunst und Technik, eine neue Einheit (Art and Technology, a new union), Paul Klee (1879–1940)

Loans from Germany make a huge contribution to the exhibition. Not that the British Museum lacks material of its own: the German collections of Prints and Drawings and Coins and Medals are unrivalled outside Germany, while the Department of Britain, Europe and Prehistory also holds a wealth of material. The British Museum objects we will use are only the tip of one iceberg. However, the great individual treasures being loaned to us, some of them leaving Germany for the first time, will give a scope to the exhibition it would otherwise lack. Paintings from Berlin, Brunswick and Dresden allow us to address the role played by the German landscape in its sense of national identity; great wooden sculptures by Tilman Riemenschneider offer an opportunity to think about religious and political life in Germany on the eve of the Protestant Reformation ; a porcelain rhinoceros from Dresden links Albrecht Dürer with German practical chemistry; evocative curiosities from the German Historical Museum give an unexpected view of Otto von Bismarck. Loans will bring us to the city of Weimar: to the study of Goethe, the classrooms of the Bauhaus – and to the gate of Buchenwald concentration camp.

Using objects to place the events of the early and mid-20th century in the context of this longer vista was always part of the project and was always going to be the hardest to achieve. How can there be balance in the face of genocide, crime and barbarism? Attempting this as an outsider has demonstrated to me just how hard it must be for a German.

Germany: memories of a nation (16 October 2014 – 25 January 2015) is sponsored by Betsy and Jack Ryan, with support from Salomon Oppenheimer Philanthropic Foundation.

Accompanying the exhibition is a 30-part BBC Radio 4 series written and presented by Neil MacGregor. Starts Monday 29 September.

Filed under: Germany: memories of a nation, , , ,

The Lacock Cup: a rare survival

Naomi Speakman, curator, British Museum

The Lacock Cup. Plain and gilded silver, England, 15th century. 2014,8002.1

The Lacock Cup. Plain and gilded silver, England, 15th century. 2014,8002.1

As I write this post, I am drinking tea out of my favourite mug. Having a special cup or saving glasses for important occasions is something we can all recognise today. In the Middle Ages it was no different, and wonderfully ornate pieces of silverware were made for fine dining and special feasts. The Lacock Cup is such an object, and is the most recent and exciting addition to the British Museum’s Late Medieval collection that I am responsible for.

The Lacock Cup. Plain and gilded silver, England, 15th century. 2014,8002.1

The Lacock Cup. Plain and gilded silver, England, 15th century. 2014,8002.1

Formed of nearly 1kg of silver, this drinking cup topped with a sweeping lid was made in England in the mid-15th century and is a rare example of pre-Reformation secular silver. The survival rate for this type of object is extremely low. Fewer than 300 pieces of English silver have survived from before 1520. Why this low rate of survival? The single greatest reason is that, as tastes and fashions changed, so the silver was melted down and refashioned into more desirable objects. Silver during this time was also seen as a source of ready cash, so that when money was needed to secure credit, or to pay off a loan, it could be used quickly and easily, or melted down for its bullion value. The reason for the Lacock Cup’s survival is a unique part of its story, and something I will return to later on.

The Cup started its life as a high-status drinking vessel. It is of a type known as a ‘standing’ or ‘covered’ cup, which were popular in the late Middle Ages. The style of the Cup shows that its original role was for display on the dining table, which was as important as its function for drinking. It has a large bowl and tall trumpet-shaped foot and base, topped by a sweeping lid. With such exaggerated style, and standing at 35cm in height, the Cup was designed to be seen across the hall, making an elegant statement at the nobleman’s table. The design of the lid demonstrates this, it is almost as tall as the cup itself and when placed on top the Cup nearly doubles in height.

The Royal Gold Cup. Gold and enamel, France, 1370-1380. (1892,0501.1)

The Royal Gold Cup. Gold and enamel, France, 1370-1380. (1892,0501.1)

Mazer bowl with lid. Maple wood with silver and enamel and silver gilt mounts, Flanders, Belgium, 15th century. AF.3116.

Mazer bowl with lid. Maple wood with silver and enamel and silver gilt mounts, Flanders, Belgium, 15th century. AF.3116.

Drinking cups were popular with all levels of society, with the style filtering down through the court and the nobility. In Room 40, the Paul and Jill Ruddock Gallery 1050-1500 we can chart the types of vessels used by different members of Medieval society across Continental Europe through three objects. Firstly, the Royal Gold Cup may have been a drinking cup for a royal diner, King Charles VI of France (reigned 1380-1422). Judging by its style and material the Lacock Cup is believed to have been used by an English nobleman or member of the gentry. Finally, a mazer bowl with enamelled silver mounts from mid-14th century Flanders shows another popular type of drinking vessel more widely used.

Travelling spoon and case. Silver-gilt enamel and leather. Probably Flemish, 15th century. 1899,1209.3.

Travelling spoon and case. Silver-gilt enamel and leather. Probably Flemish, 15th century. 1899,1209.3.

Travelling spoon and case. Silver-gilt enamel and leather. Probably Flemish, 15th century. 1899,1209.3.

Travelling spoon and case. Silver-gilt enamel and leather. Probably Flemish, 15th century. 1899,1209.3.

The Lacock Cup was definitely a showpiece. It was firmly connected to the host of the feast, since cups were provided by them, and were shared around the table during dining (although it was the guests’ responsibility to bring their own cutlery, as illustrated by a collapsible spoon and travelling case also displayed in Room 40 which is a wonderfully playful and beautiful example).

Saint Cyriac’s Church, Lacock, Wiltshire.

Saint Cyriac’s Church, Lacock, Wiltshire.

Clearly a secular object, the Cup takes on a different role after the religious tumult of the English Reformation of the 1530s. At some point in its life after the Reformation the Cup became the communion chalice of the parishioners of St Cyriac’s church in the village of Lacock in Wiltshire, which lends the Cup its name. This new position as a sacred vessel, the cup is under divine protection, much less likely to be destroyed compared to its secular counterparts.

Although we don’t know exactly when the Cup was donated, or by who, it is likely to have been after the middle of the 16th century. Since the Cup bears no religious imagery, it was perfectly suited to its new function as a chalice in a post-Reformation church. Its size could also have been its saving grace: after the Reformation the whole congregation would drink from the same cup. Two possible donors are William Sharington, the first lay resident of Lacock Abbey after it had been suppressed in the Reformation, and Robert Baynard a local nobleman who lived in the 17th century. Both of these men held positions of local importance and have monuments within Saint Cyriac’s and a record of involvement with the church.

Whoever the original donor was, we do know that the Cup was used and treasured by the congregation for centuries. It was not until the 20th century that the importance of the Cup became known nationally and internationally. In 1962 a loan was agreed with the church for the Cup to come to the British Museum. There was a surprising clause to the loan. It was agreed that the Cup would travel back to Lacock from Paddington to be met by a ‘responsible person of the parish’ for liturgical use four times a year at Christmas, Easter, Whitsun and Harvest. We can assume that the Cup was historically linked to these festivals, as a report to the Trustees of the British Museum dated 26 September 1962 notes that ‘the parish is accustomed to using the Cup as a communion chalice on four occasions during the year and would wish to continue to do so’.

At the end of 2013 the British Museum and the Wiltshire Museum jointly acquired the Lacock Cup for the nation. As a mark of recognition of the importance of the Cup to the history and community of St Cyriac’s, the British Museum has commissioned a facsimile, made by an expert at the Museum, which will continue to have a role in the life of the church into the twenty-first century. 2015 will also see the story of the Lacock Cup continue as it goes on tour across the UK. The tour will open on 31 January at The Salisbury Museum, then onto the Palace Green Library, Durham, Norwich Castle Keep, Nottingham Castle and finishing at Wiltshire Museum in Devizes.

The Lacock Cup was acquired by the British Museum and the Wiltshire Museum with the support of the National Heritage Memorial Fund, John Studzinski, the Art Fund, the American Friends of the British Museum, the British Museum Friends, the Jean Sibley Bequest, the Charity Fund of International Partners Limited in memory of Melvin R Seiden, Howard and Roberta Ahmanson, the Headley Trust and individual contributions.

Naomi Speakman and Lloyd De Beer are authors of the latest volume in the Objects in Focus series: The Lacock Cup.

Filed under: Uncategorized

What I want from the British Museum

Bonnie Greer OBE, playwright, novelist and critic, former British Museum Trustee

I wrote in my recently published memoir A Parallel Life, about my first encounter with the British Museum. My dad worked in a factory at night making tin cans and during the day he read. One of the things he read voraciously was the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and it is in its pages that I first saw the Parthenon Marbles, the Rosetta Stone, and the British Museum – the edifice – itself, very feminine and welcome, Muse-like to me. Decades later, after I had moved to London from New York, I was given a Reader’s Card, a pass which enabled me to take books out of the British Library, then housed in the Museum. I can’t tell you the fear and the excitement I felt going through those faux-Grecian pillars for the first time, me – a kid from the Southside of Chicago – here, for free, with no restrictions on what I could see.

And feel.

The British Museum

The British Museum

I came to see, after eight years on the Board here – four of them as Deputy Chair – that every museum, large or small, is an ecosystem. It is the objects; the physical building itself; the curators, other staff and visitors. And then it is the things that cannot be seen: the scholarship; the energy of everyone involved; the connections with the museum’s various communities.

And the Point.

Every museum has a Point. All of the modernisation, the furbelows, bells and whistles must never obscure the Point. And this is held – in a delicate balance – with the Board and the Director and his/her team. The Point, to me – at this moment in what we call the West – is simply to justify the West itself. We take this for granted because the West has been ruler for so long, so long in control, in charge. But this will not be the case in the rapidly approaching future.

Marble relief (Block XLIV) from the North frieze of the Parthenon. The frieze shows the procession of the Panathenaic festival, the commemoration of the birthday of the goddess Athena. 1816,0610.43

Marble relief (Block XLIV) from the North frieze of the Parthenon. The frieze shows the procession of the Panathenaic festival, the commemoration of the birthday of the goddess Athena. 1816,0610.43

We must ourselves understand the West: individual freedom; the free flow of ideas; the equality of men and women, ethnicities, abilities and sexualities. The modern Agora. Freedom of religion and speech and thought… and the freedom to roam, which to my mind, is peculiarly British and apt in relation to the time that the Museum came to be, the Age of Enlightenment.

In the 21st century the Age of Enlightenment also means digitisation – not simply the ‘wiring’ of the Museum, but an understanding of what a digital edifice is, that it exists not just on screen or increasingly in digital ‘wearables’. A digital Museum understands the concept of the ‘Internet of Everything’, in which every object – even the space itself – can interact with the visitor.

Be the Visitor.

The concept of being a ‘visitor’ itself will become a multi-faceted experience, increasingly one that will not just be in situ.

But everywhere.

The Museum must face Everywhere.

We must not only know what our values are, but the Museum becomes the very demonstration of them. All nations and peoples are welcomed in the spirit of Enlightenment and the Museum must have neither fear nor favour in doing this. The agora of itself therefore extends out, encompassing, fearless. Free.

A group of children using a tablet in a Museum gallery

A group using a tablet in one of the Museum’s galleries

And now, we are in a time when this can actually happen – digitally – and museums must acknowledge this, and to some extent enter into a new partnership. Because the Visitor, the Engager, will also take a more and more active part in creating the Museum of the future.

There has to be space for this to happen.

I also don’t think that ethnicity will play a large part in the scheme of things in 50 to 100 years’ time. There will be little or no such thing as ‘ethnic diversity’. In the West we are blending, becoming new people and so the Museum will become a kind of staging post and also a way-station, in which objects, ideas and experience will document the movement toward this cohesion and perhaps point toward possible futures.

Before I first entered the British Museum, I had dreamed about it, refashioned it to fit me.

Door panels and lintel  from the palace of the Ogoga (king) of Ikere in Nigeria. They depict the arrival of a British administrator in the Ogoga’s palace around 1899-1901. Af1924,-.135.a-b

Door panels and lintel from the palace of the Ogoga (king) of Ikere in Nigeria. They depict the arrival of a British administrator in the Ogoga’s palace around 1899-1901. Af1924,-.135.a-b

This can only happen if the Museum continues to make itself an equal and never allows class or other banalities to get in the way of its mission. And is vigilant about this. Strong and determined.

I have a friend who told me that, when she was a young girl, she used to pass through the British Museum with her eyes closed, on her way to the Library. For her, the Museum, all Western museums, are storehouses of old, sentimental and in the case of the British Museum, colonial and imperial loot. She couldn’t look because there were things inside that belonged to her. I’ve grown to understand the enormous value of global collections, but we must all know why they hold objects that do not ‘belong to us’. This is not only an intellectual explanation, but an emotional one.

Museums must make their Boards younger, swifter, more diverse, able to react to change. The British Museum has made good steps in this area already, but nobody can be complacent; change and turmoil will be the ‘terrible twos’ of the 21st century, and our children, too, if we see them in a positive way. Every day the 21st-century museum must be rebuilt anew. The point of it all has to be revisited, refreshed constantly. In simplicity, precision and elegance.

The Sutton Hoo helmet. Tin, iron, copper alloy, silver, gold, garnet. Early Anglo-Saxon, early 7th century. Found in the Sutton Hoo Ship-burial Mound: 1, Suffolk, England. 1939,1010.93

The Sutton Hoo helmet. Tin, iron, copper alloy, silver, gold, garnet. Early Anglo-Saxon, early 7th century. Found in the Sutton Hoo Ship-burial Mound: 1, Suffolk, England. 1939,1010.93

Sitting next to my dad back then, poring over those heavy encyclopaedias, we read the stories attached to the objects and we saw, within ourselves, the lands and the times and the people. The British Museum belonged to us then. And yet, it belonged to itself, too. The coming together of these two ideas: The Visitor and the Museum, their conjunction, projection and protection, is what the British Museum in the 21st century has to be about.


Bonnie Greer is on the panel for A living building: how could the British Museum best deliver its constant purpose for a changing public?, on Thursday 11 September, 18.30–20.30. This is the first in a series of debates as part of Museum of the future, in which we are discussing big questions about the Museum’s future. Visit our Tumblr to get an introduction to the debate and the Museum’s history.

Bonnie Greer’s memoir A Parallel Life is published by Arcadia Books.

Filed under: Museum of the Future, Uncategorized, , , , ,

Teaching History with 100 Objects

Richard Woff, Head of Project, British Museum

I just attended the press launch in the Museum of Teaching History with 100 Objects, a series of online resources for teachers supported by the Department for Education. Each resource is based on a museum object which connects to the key topics of the new history curriculum for England and to wider themes for teachers across the UK and the world. The objects are drawn from the collections of the British Museum and a network of partners around Britain.

The website uses object-based learning to enable a wide understanding of British and world history to support teaching for Key Stages 1, 2 and 3. Resources feature background information, activity ideas, images to download and links to videos and other media. The project takes inspiration from our collaboration with the BBC, A History of the World in 100 Objects, but includes a new selection of objects – dating from around 500,000 years ago to the present day. They provide vital components in teaching and learning about the past, to stimulate enquiry and to open up cultures and periods for investigation.

The Sutton Hoo helmet. Tin, iron, copper alloy, silver, gold, garnet. Early Anglo-Saxon, early 7th century. Found in the Sutton Hoo Ship-burial Mound: 1, Suffolk, England.

The Sutton Hoo helmet. Tin, iron, copper alloy, silver, gold, garnet. Early Anglo-Saxon, early 7th century. Found in the Sutton Hoo Ship-burial Mound: 1, Suffolk, England.

The first 30 resources are available on the site today. They include objects as diverse as the Sutton Hoo helmet from the British Museum, which transformed our understanding of Anglo-Saxon England; Guy Fawkes’ lantern from the Ashmolean Museum, which offers young children the chance to study a famous individual and a famous event, and The State Entry into Delhi, a huge painting by Roderick MacKenzie (1856-1942) from Bristol Museum and Art Gallery depicting the proclamation of Edward VII as Emperor of India and an extraordinary springboard into the study of the British Empire.

Square Guy Fawkes' lantern © The Ashmolean Museum

Square Guy Fawkes’ lantern © The Ashmolean Museum

Roderick Dempster MacKenzie, The State Entry into Delhi, 1907, Oil on canvas. © Bristol Museum and Art Gallery

Roderick Dempster MacKenzie, The State Entry into Delhi, 1907, Oil on canvas. © Bristol Museum and Art Gallery

Resources to be added during the next few weeks will include a Roman medical encyclopaedia written in Arabic, an Akan drum from Ghana, and a Maori hand club from New Zealand. The mummy and coffins of Asru (from around 750–525 BC) and important pieces from Manchester Museum’s ancient Egypt collection will also feature.

At the launch of the website today, the Schools Minister Nick Gibb cited the American educationist E.D. Hirsch in his belief that knowledge builds on knowledge: the more you know, the more you are able to learn. We hope that this new resource helps teachers and children build their knowledge of the past, understand how to use artefacts in learning history, and engage with the objects and events that form their personal, local, national and global stories.

Filed under: Collection, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Conserving the pottery, terracotta and tablets from Ur

Duygu Camurcuoglu, conservator, Ur Project, British Museum

My job is to assess the condition of the objects from Ur being studied as part of the Ur digitisation project, conserve them if necessary, and guide the project team on handling and safe storage of the objects before/during photography and further digitisation work. I joined the project in August 2013 to lead the conservation and my first responsibility was to assess and conserve the terracotta objects and the clay tablets with ancient cuneiform inscriptions on study loan from Iraq.

Assessing the condition of the Humbaba terracotta mask

Assessing the condition of the Humbaba terracotta mask

Fired clay mask of Humbaba. Old Babylonian, 2000–1700 BC; From Ur, southern Iraq.  (ME 127443)

Fired clay mask of Humbaba. Old Babylonian, 2000–1700 BC; From Ur, southern Iraq. (ME 127443)

There are over a thousand terracotta objects from Ur in the British Museum’s collection, primarily reliefs, figurines and models. Although some are skilfully modelled, the majority are rather crude and mass-produced in moulds. My initial task was to assess each one, selecting those that needed treatment and completing the work before they could be handled and photographed. In the image above, you can see me assessing the condition of one of the important objects from Ur, the fired clay mask of Humbaba, a fearsome monster slain by Gilgamesh in Mesopotamian literature. During the process, colleagues from ceramics and glass conservation joined me to complete the assessment work on the objects, while I undertook the actual conservation treatments.

Following the terracotta objects, I assessed the condition of the pottery from Ur. This large collection comprises over a thousand ceramic vessels in various sizes, shapes, colours and fabrics. This was a huge challenge! Every day, my colleague Gareth Brereton and I went to one of British Museum’s storage areas where the pottery from Ur is housed. We set up a small working area in this room for object assessments, photography and registration. There were a large number of cupboards to go through, so Gareth and I worked almost every morning together, assessing the condition of each pot so that Gareth could handle, photograph and register them. We had plenty of exercise going up and down the ladder each morning as some of the objects were stored very high up in the shelves.

Most terracotta objects and ceramic vessels from Ur are in good condition. They sometimes require conservation work, since they have unstable fragments, flakes or cracks on their surfaces. This is very normal due to the age of the objects, most are which are about 4,000 years old. It is crucial that the necessary treatments are undertaken. When unstable objects are not treated using proper conservation techniques and materials, further problems may occur during storage and handling, such as loss of surfaces and decoration, cracks, breakage of fragments that can make it difficult to study and learn more from the objects.

Stabilising the surface of a large ceramic vessel from Ur

Stabilising the surface of a large ceramic vessel from Ur

I identify any cracks and/or unstable flakes on the surface of the vessels before stabilising them using conservation grade materials. I often use a fine brush or a micropipette for this work. Once the treatment is completed, I enter all my treatment records onto the British Museum’s curatorial database, Merlin, so that the information is accessible across the Museum and the world via the collection online.

Assessing a cuneiform tablet from Ur

Assessing a cuneiform tablet from Ur

I have also been assessing and undertaking conservation on the cuneiform tablets from Ur. It is particularly important to prevent the loss of surfaces from tablets, because that would mean loss of the text.

Apart from undertaking remedial ‘hands on’ work with objects, I am also responsible from supporting the Ur team when they have any questions about handling the objects safely, as some are very fragile. I also monitor the environmental conditions in the Ur project lab and storage cupboards, using digital sensors which we place in different areas. This is important because fluctuating temperature and relative humidity can severely damage archaeological objects. For example, soluble salts in the ceramic and clay fabrics can react very quickly with the fluctuating conditions, resulting in delamination and loss of object surfaces, which can contain elaborate decorations, pigments and reliefs.

When I have completed the conservation work on the pottery and the cuneiform tablets, I will move on to the conservation of other types of objects and materials from Ur, in order to prepare them for digitisation and further study. I am looking forward to the challenge!

Read more about the Ur digitisation project in Birger Helgestad’s post in July.

The Ur Project is supported by the Leon Levy Foundation.

Filed under: Conservation, Ur Project, , , , , ,

The British Museum guide 2069

‘Saxo Japonicus’, curator, British Museum (writing in 1969)

In the year that Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon, the Boeing 747 made its first flight and The Beatles released Abbey Road, a British Museum curator (using the pseudonym Saxo Japonicus) wrote an article in Colonnade, the staff magazine, about what he thought the British Museum would be like 100 years from then – in 2069. Below are some highlights.

Cover of Colonnade, staff magazine of the British Museum, Spring 1969 edition.

Cover of Colonnade, staff magazine of the British Museum, Spring 1969 edition.

‘Your Trustees are pleased to welcome you to the world-renowned British Museum, the friendly Museum of the Future as we like you to think of us. We wonder if you are one of the many who have delayed getting our stamp on your Certificate of Culture because you thought we were stuffy and formal? Not a bit of it. As you step out of the lift of the 100-storey Forecourt Heliport (from which on a clear day you can see the strikingly shaped tower of Birmingham Suburb Comprehensive) you will be faced with a colonnade painted in a gentle pastel pink especially selected by our psychiatric adviser to make you feel at home. Inside the door computer-composed light music will release all your preresistance and tensions, and there you will be greeted personally by the British Museum Greeting Keeper of the week who will tell you just how pleased we Trustees are to have the honour of your company. The rota of the weekly Greeting Keepers can be had by post from the Publications Building (see later), so you can choose whom you wish to meet, from a Palaeolithic flint expert to an authority on mid-20th-century plastic teaspoons or even one of the bibliographer of probable and possible books. There may be a little wait while your queue reaches him, but this is a privilege we cannot let you miss. The Greeting Keeper will be most happy to shake your hand. Indeed, if he doesn’t shake the hands of at least 2000 of you honest, average people during his week’s duty we consider it just a tiny bit naughty of him!

Original article in Colonnade

Original article in Colonnade

Perhaps, too, you have been misled into thinking that the British Museum is concerned with history and the past? [NB The Trustees of the British Museum are specially licensed to use the words 'history' and 'past' in terms other than those of denunciation as being fit persons to use them for educational and non-corruptive purposes.] We must admit that after the Re-Education Act of ten years ago, with its much praised clause ‘Towards the suppression of the past’, it seemed to many of us that the only public spirited thing to do was to scrap the whole collection and turn the buildings over to more humanitarian ends such as temporary accommodation for the under-integrated. But the Public Re-educator would not hear of it. He said, to our great pride, that the 37,000-strong British Museum staff were too highly trained to be used anywhere else in the public sector and it would be a pity if their rarefied skills could not continue to be used in the service of progress. He pointed out that since every development in the past had once been in the future to somebody, an since all change, as everyone knows, is improvement, so every culture and period in history justifies the superior one which succeeded it, and thus proves at every stage the inevitable rightness of progress (how obvious it all seems now!)

We have been happy and obliged to rearrange the British Museum on these doctrinally sound lines. The main exhibition runs in a circle round the ground floor, and you will be taken round it in your chair on a continuous moving band at 3kph. We regret that you must be strapped in for the trip. This is for your own safety, for owing to shortage of staff we could not guarantee to recover you if you fell from the band into the pit below it. This is overrun with a population of picturesquely savage cats estimated to have increased to several thousand since they were declared a Protected Cultural Property in 2047. The exhibition begins with the Old Stone Age, seen from the point of view of a visionary technologist of the Old Stone Age. His recreated thoughts are broadcast over your headphones. And so it goes on right up to the present day, which is described in a concluding 15-minute recorded lecture called ‘The Present: Prelude to the Future’. We hope in this way to educate your historical imagination.

The theme of every one of our labels (they are in six-feet-high neon lettering easily read at 3kph) is improvement. We show clearly and graphically just how the artifacts of each age were an improvement on those preceding. Take those plastic spoons again. You can see how the design of English spoons steadily improved from clumsy Medieval ones with their awkward bowls and narrow handles, through the more technologically advanced but far too fussy and ornate silverware of the 18th century, to the beautifully stark and almost practical white plastic spoons of the late 20th century (some from excavations of the BM Canteen of that period), and then to our own dry-ice disposables, which just melt into the air during use. Finally we try to project the future and the possibility, or rather certainty, of the non-spoon, the spoon perhaps which could be created in the user’s mind by taking a hallucinatory pill.

There are a number of special and temporary exhibitions. In the North Entrance, there is a selection of ‘The Ten Most Famous Objects of the British Museum’ arranged with the convenience of the One Day World Tour Company in mind. The objects are displayed in a large circle so that they can be seen from the glass dome of the ODWTC thermonuclear craft when it has descended through the hinged roof for its 5-minute stop. Other visitors can see the objects at the same time from the outer perimeter. Protective suits and masks are available at a moderate fee. The objects are of course plastic reproductions made by our laboratories. Thus do we prove to the world that modern technology can surpass anything done in the past, for our models not only reproduce every detail but also do not deteriorate in the tiresome way the originals did after only a few years of thermonuclear exhaust and vibration….

…Your stay in the BM will not be complete without a visit to the publicateria, where food and coffee machines are tastefully and imaginatively alternated with the automatic vendors of publications, postcards and replicas. The publicateria used to be deep underground until the regrettable affair of the Great Fleet Flood (you must not miss the exciting memorial in fibre-glass which stands over the spot where the passages were sealed off) but it has now been moved to a huge transparent plastic platform fitted across the dome of the Reading Room. This not only uses valuable space, but allows you, while having your repast, to look down on the wonderful scene of scholarly activity below you. Powerful binoculars can be hired so that you can actually read what the researchers are writing in their notebooks. Thus you too can stand on the threshold of new knowledge! Down there in the Reading Room, the Research Students of this country and the USA in their tens of thousands work intensively through their two-hour shifts. It is no longer possible, because of lack of space, to allow students to read for more than two hours a day, but the extension to 24-hour opening admits twelve shifts a day. Through the floor you can also see the amusing scenes when a Student’s two-hour meter runs out, lets out a loud alarm bell, and sets off a mechanism which propels him automatically out of the door if he has not left within 60 seconds.

You, of course, will be equipped with a similar 60-minute meter. Our popularity has led naturally to this measure. So don’t spend too long reading this, but get on with your visit. And the best of luck to you!’

We are discussing big questions about the Museum’s future in a series of three monthly debates in September to December 2014, and online. You can book your place at one of the debates now, and we’ll be inviting you to share your views online in September. In the meantime, visit our Tumblr to get an introduction to the debate and the Museum’s history.

Filed under: Museum of the Future,

The divided self: Germany, art and poetry

Edward Doegar, General Manager, The Poetry Society

When the British Museum contacted the Poetry Society about commissioning an event responding to their exhibition Germany divided: Baselitz and his generation, we were thrilled. It seemed particularly fitting as the fate of the artists represented was shared by so many of the poets of the period. The exhibition traces the work of a generation who were all, at some point, forced into exile moving from East to West Germany. This unwelcome journey was also familiar to many of East Germany’s dissenting poets, most famously in the case of Wolf Biermann who found himself stripped of his citizenship in 1976 while on an officially organised tour in the West. Sarah Kirsch, Reiner Kunze and Kurt Bartsch all followed soon after.

If the challenges of artistic life in the GDR were shared by many, this certainly didn’t reduce the vitality and range of the art (and poetry) that it produced. Indeed, the author of the exhibition catalogue, John-Paul Stonard, has explained (in a post on this blog) how the sense of division that exile created was often intensely personal and psychological in its effect, so the highly individual artwork that resulted seems inevitable. With this in mind, we decided to broaden the commission to an evening of poetry exploring the theme of the ‘divided self’ and asked three remarkable poets to write a new poem responding to this. The poems were then premiered during an evening of readings in the Museum’s Clore Education Centre as part of the British Museum’s BM / PM series. The event was held on 11 April and was tremendously successful; below you can listen to each of the commissioned poems.

Sam Riviere is a formally inventive poet whose work often engages with new media. His first collection 81 Austerities was published by Faber in 2012 and won Forward Felix Dennis Prize for Best First Collection. His recent work ‘Kim Kardashian’s Marriage‘ was published as a blog series which was available online for only 72 days, mirroring the length of Kardashian’s marriage.

Ohne Titel (Selbstportrat), ('Untitled (Self-portrait)'), 1975, A R Penck (b.1939), grey and black ink wash on paper. Presented to the British Museum by Count Christian Duerckheim © A.R. Penck / DACS 2013

Ohne Titel (Selbstportrat), (‘Untitled (Self-portrait)’), 1975, A R Penck (b.1939), grey and black ink wash on paper. Presented to the British Museum by Count Christian Duerckheim © A.R. Penck / DACS 2013

His commissioned poem, ‘Preferences’, seems to recall A R Penck’s Ohne Titel (Selbstporträt). In Penck’s ink drawing the self-portrait emerges from an almost-uniform blanket of spaced dots, recalling a dot matrix printer. Likewise, Riviere’s poem is designed to completely fill a piece of A5 paper with a one inch margin, yet out of this seemingly arbitrary setting he makes the language flex with meaning and wit.

Kathryn Maris’ many awards include Academy of American Poets University & College Prize and a Pushcart Prize. She has published two highly-acclaimed collections, the second of which, God Loves You, was published by Seren in 2013. Maris’ work couples a fierce intellect with an emotionally resonant lyric fluency. Her commissioned poem, ‘The House with Only an Attic and a Basement’, seems to originate principally from the idea of the theme itself, taking an epigraph from R D Laing’s book The Divided Self.

Georg Baselitz, Zwei Streifen ('Two Stripes'), charcoal, watercolour and graphite on thin laid paper, 1966

Georg Baselitz, Zwei Streifen (‘Two Stripes’), charcoal, watercolour and graphite on thin laid paper, 1966

The wonderful symmetry and asymmetry of the poem keeps us oscillating between laughter and a shocked silence. In its polarising verticality the poem seems a match for Baselitz’s Zwei Streifen (Two Stripes).

Finally, Michael Hofmann is an award-winning poet whose Selected Poems appeared from Faber in 2008. In addition to his own work he is also one of the world’s leading translators from the German and has introduced Anglophone audiences to the work of Dürs Grunbein, Gunter Eich and Gottfried Benn. We were very lucky to be able to persuade Hofmann to come over from Florida in order to deliver his commissioned piece in person. His poem, ‘Baselitz and his generation’, offers a sort of multiple choice version of the lives of the artists in the exhibition. The language of biography is wittily turned on its head, so that the phrases with which we usually distinguish individual lives become a means to amalgamate them.

All three of the commissioned poems are available on the Poetry Society website and were printed in The Poetry Review 104:2. The exhibition is now in its final weeks and is not to be missed.

Germany divided: Baselitz and his generation is on show at the British Museum until 31 August 2014.

Read more about this period of art and history in the beautifully illustrated catalogue which accompanies the exhibition, written by John-Paul Stonard.

Filed under: Germany Divided: Baselitz and his generation, , , , , , , , , , ,

Farewell to Curious Beasts

Alison Wright, exhibition curator, British Museum

Curious Beasts at Compton Verney, the first venue on the tour

Curious Beasts at Compton Verney, the first venue on the tour

The British Museum touring exhibition Curious Beasts: Animal Prints from the British Museum is in its closing weeks at its final UK venue, Ferens Art Gallery in Hull (7 June – 26 August 2014). Since October 2013, 86 prints made between the 15th to the early 19th centuries and containing sometimes beautiful, sometimes bizarre animal imagery have been exhibited at three venues across the UK, opening at Compton Verney in Warwickshire before travelling to the Ulster Museum (National Museums Northern Ireland) in Belfast, and Hull. The exhibition is part of the British Museum’s Partnership UK programme, which is committed to sharing collections and expertise with museums and organisations outside London. In 2013–2014 over 2,792 objects were on loan at 187 venues throughout the country.

Curious Beasts explores humankind’s curiosity about the natural world, as it was expressed in the vibrant print culture of the early modern period. Printmaking emerged as a major art form and communication tool in the 15th century, coinciding with an increasing interest in and investigation of flora and fauna. The exhibition looks at how printmakers contributed to knowledge of animals, but also at the wildly different ways in which the animal subject inspired graphic artists. Our enduring fascination with animals also proved to be a good way to bond with like-minded colleagues in other museums, and to make the most of their own collections – leading to some novel encounters between the British Museum’s prints and objects such as stuffed rabbits and rhinoceroses.

Jan Saenredam, A beached whale near Beverwijk, engraving, 1602 (1871,0812.1545)

Jan Saenredam, A beached whale near Beverwijk, engraving, 1602 (1871,0812.1545)

The idea for Curious Beasts was sparked many years ago when, working as a Museum Assistant in the Department of Prints and Drawings, I opened a box of 16th-century Dutch and Flemish prints – while looking for something else entirely – and was startled to discover Jan Saenredam’s magnificent engraving of a beached sperm whale, from 1602.

The remarkably accurate representation of this mysterious giant is bordered by an equally remarkable frame that gives us broader insight into the ways people thought about whales: images of eclipses, earthquake and plague tie into the idea that the monstrous sea creature dying on land was a bad omen. The whale is surrounded by a crowd of sightseers, testifying to the intense curiosity about strange and rare creatures in this period – some of these people would no doubt have been among the intended audience for the engraving, too.

Saenredam’s whale is now at the heart of Curious Beasts, and I have greatly enjoyed showing it, in all its peculiarity, to new audiences. The exhibition takes inspiration from the complexity of Saenredam’s print, drawing on the diversity of the British Museum’s collection to put natural history studies in the context of people’s wider relationships with the animal world. The range of material covers everything from religious subjects (e.g. Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden) to political satire and practical objects – one etching of a rabbit was designed as a target for archery practice. Dürer’s 1515 woodcut of a rhinoceros is probably the best-known object in the exhibition, and a 1620 impression is shown alongside prints by Rembrandt, Goya and Stubbs, and an array of fascinating and striking works by lesser known artists, the majority of which have never been loaned before.

Albrecht Durer, Rhinoceros, colour woodcut, first published 1515, this edition after 1620 (1877,0609.71)

Albrecht Dürer, Rhinoceros, colour woodcut, first published 1515, this edition after 1620 (1877,0609.71)

Working with our three partners has been educational and inspiring – there have been so many great responses to the beauty and quirkiness of the British Museum beasts. Our lead partner Compton Verney brought taxidermy into their galleries for the first time, including a baby Indian rhinoceros borrowed from Exeter’s Royal Albert Memorial Museum: an intriguing comparison with Dürer’s woodcut of the same species (he famously never saw the rhinoceros in real life).

Curious Beasts at Compton Verney: the stuffed rhinoceros

Curious Beasts at Compton Verney: the stuffed rhinoceros

Compton Verney also wanted to put on a complementary display that would feature their edition of the designer Enid Marx’s linocut series, Marco’s Animal Alphabet. A collaboration with Leicester Print Workshop brought printmaking up to the present day with an exhibition of new works titled A Fantastical Animal Alphabet, and a pop-up print studio run by their very appropriate Artist in Residence, Kate Da’Casto: I have fond memories of conversations about our mutual love of old master prints and the more gruesome relics of natural history.

The exhibition has changed at each venue. In Belfast the Ulster Museum decided to include Lorenzo Lippi’s lovely painting, Allegory of Fortune with a monkey, and also to display taxidermy from its extensive natural history collection, much of it prepared by the respected Belfast firm Sheals, established in 1856. The museum’s famous exhibit Peter the polar bear, prepared in 1972 after he died at Belfast zoo, was in a nearby gallery.

Curious Beasts at Ferens Art Gallery, Hull: the rhinoceros wheelbarrow, made by Hull furniture makers Richardson & Sons, 1862

Curious Beasts at Ferens Art Gallery, Hull: the rhinoceros wheelbarrow, made by Hull furniture makers Richardson & Sons, 1862

The exhibition’s present incarnation at Ferens Art Gallery is in the largest gallery space yet, and the curators at Hull Museums were keen to use Curious Beasts as an opportunity to bring some of their objects out of storage and into conversation with the British Museum’s prints. Over 30 objects were eventually selected, including a delightful rhinoceros-shaped ceremonial wheelbarrow made in 1862, a sperm whale tooth with scrimshaw carvings, and artworks including the truly bizarre and difficult-to-display 1960s wooden sculpture Criletic Delay Adjust (‘Zebra Legs’) by Mark Ingram, which triggered much reminiscence among the curators and technicians.

Sadly it’s the end of the road for this particular UK travelling exhibition, but the beasts have life in them yet. Halfway through the tour, we received word that San Diego University Galleries were interested in taking the show for October 2014. I can’t wait to see what they decide to do with it.

Curious Beasts is at the Ferens Art Gallery in Hull until 26 August 2014, and then at the San Diego University Galleries from 2 October – 14 December 2014

Filed under: Collection, Exhibitions, , , , , ,

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This is Room 56, the Raymond and Beverly Sackler Gallery of Mesopotamia 6000–1500 BC. It's the next in our gallery series for #MuseumOfTheFuture. Between 6000 and 1550 BC, Mesopotamia, the land between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers (now Iraq, north-east Syria and part of south-east Turkey) witnessed crucial advancements in the development of human civilisation during the evolution from small agricultural settlements to large cities.
Objects on display in Room 56 illustrate economic success based on agriculture, the invention of writing, developments in technology and artistry, and other achievements of the Sumerians, Akkadians and Babylonians, who lived in Mesopotamia at this time.
Objects found at the Royal Cemetery at Ur are of particular importance, and you can see the Royal Game of Ur in the foreground of this picture – the oldest board game in the world. Our next #MuseumOfTheFuture gallery space is Room 55, the Raymond and Beverly Sackler Gallery of Mesopotamia 1500–539 BC. The civilisations of Babylonia and Assyria flourished during the first millennium BC. Political developments resulted in the incorporation of the entire Near East into a single empire, while increased international contact and trade influenced the material culture of the region.
Room 55 traces the history of Babylonia under the Kassites and the growth of the Babylonian state and empire until it was taken over by the Persian King Cyrus in 539 BC.
'Boundary Stones' carved with images of kings and symbols of the gods record royal land grants. The development of the Assyrian state and empire, until its fall in 612 BC, is illustrated by objects excavated in its palaces. Mesopotamia’s highly developed literature and learning are demonstrated by clay tablets from the library of King Ashurbanipal (r. 668–631 BC) at Nineveh, written in cuneiform script. It's time for Room 54 in our #MuseumOfTheFuture gallery series – the Raymond and Beverly Sackler Gallery of Anatolia and Urartu 7000–300 BC. Ancient Anatolia and Urartu form an important land link between Europe and Asia and lie where the modern Republic of Turkey, Armenia, Georgia and north-west Iran are located today. Objects in Room 54 show different cultures from prehistoric to Hellenistic times.
Examples of Early Bronze Age craftsmanship on display include a silver bull and cup, and business archives of Middle Bronze Age merchants illustrate trading between central Anatolia and Mesopotamia (modern Iraq). Delicate gold jewellery and figurines date from the Hittite period, and Iron Age objects from Urartu include winged bulls and griffins that were used to decorate furniture. Next in our #MuseumOfTheFuture series of gallery spaces it's Room 53, the Raymond and Beverly Sackler Gallery of Ancient South Arabia. Ancient South Arabia was centred on what is now modern Yemen but included parts of Saudi Arabia and southern Oman. It was famous in the ancient world as an important source of valuable incense and perfume, and was described by Classical writers as Arabia Felix ('Fortunate Arabia') because of its fertility.
Several important kingdoms flourished there at different times between 1000 BC and the rise of Islam in the 6th century AD. The oldest and most important of these was Saba, which is referred to as Sheba in the Bible.
Room 53 features highlights from the Museum’s collection, which is one of the most important outside Yemen. The display includes examples of beautiful carved alabaster sculptures originally placed inside tombs, incense-burners and a massive bronze altar. You can see the East stairs in the background of this picture. We've reached Room 52 on our #MuseumOfTheFuture series of gallery spaces – the Rahim Irvani Gallery of Ancient Iran. Iran was a major centre of ancient culture. It was rich in valuable natural resources, especially metals, and played an important role in the development of ancient Middle Eastern civilisation and trade. Room 52 highlights these ancient interconnections and the rise of distinctive local cultures, such as in Luristan, during the age of migrations after about 1400 BC.
During the 6th century BC, Cyrus the Great founded a mighty Persian empire which eventually stretched from Egypt to Pakistan. Objects on display from this period include the Cyrus Cylinder (in the centre of the picture) and the Oxus Treasure (in the case to the left of the picture). Monumental plaster casts of sculptures from Persepolis are also displayed in Room 52 and on the East stairs.
The later periods of the Parthian and Sasanian empires mark a revival in Iranian culture and are represented through displays including silver plates and cut glass. The next gallery space in our #MuseumOfTheFuture series is Room 51, Europe and Middle East 10,000–800 BC. Farming began in the Middle East around 12,000 years ago, making possible the social, cultural and economic changes which shaped the modern world. It arrived in Britain around 6,000 years ago bringing a new way of life. This change in lifestyle meant people competed for wealth, power and status, displaying these through jewellery, weapons and feasting.
The objects on display in Room 51 show how the people of prehistoric Europe celebrated life and death and expressed their relationship with the natural world, the spirit world and each other. The object in the centre of this picture is the Mold gold cape, found in Flintshire in 1833 and dating to around 1900–1600 BC.
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