British Museum blog

The Blackfoot at the British Museum

John Davy, Collaborative Doctoral Student, Department of Africa, Oceania and the Americas, British Museum

With the generous assistance of art brokers C S Redlick, the British Museum has recently been able to acquire the painting Event II by the Siksika Blackfoot artist Adrian A Stimson. The Blackfoot are a Native American tribe whose home is on the plains of historic Saskatchewan, now Saskatchewan and Alberta in Canada, and Montana in the United States. They have a long history of subsistence on the land, and Stimson – also known by the pseudonym ‘Buffalo Boy’ – produces artworks which engage with conceptions of what it means to be Native in the modern world.

Event II, Adrian Stimson, 2015, 121.9 x 61 cm. British Museum 2015,2023.1

Event II, by Adrian Stimson, 2015, 121.9 x 61 cm. British Museum 2015,2023.1

Event II depicts two American bison, commonly known as buffalo, a mother and calf, playing in deep snow. The cow rolls in the snow as the calf leaps excitedly beside her. In the background the featureless while plains stretch for miles underneath a wide expanse of sky studded with dark clouds. It is a timeless natural scene, broken by one small feature: in the far distance, on the horizon, a tiny nodding-donkey pumpjack beats away, draining oil from far below.

The painting is part of a series of artworks Stimson has produced which illustrate the effects of mineral exploitation on traditional Native landscapes, each depicting buffalo on snowy plains against a backdrop of pipelines and factories. Mineral extraction has become a major issue for the Blackfoot in recent years, as mining companies have increasingly sought to gain access to mineral deposits on historic tribal lands. Although there is substantial wealth to be made, the potential damage to the environment and upheaval in the traditional way of life are significant concerns, reflected in these paintings in which the buffalo stand for the Blackfoot peoples.

The British Museum is particularly pleased to be able to purchase this artwork as the Museum already contains important historical collections from the Blackfoot peoples, most notably the Deane-Freeman collection. At the turn of the twentieth century Maude Deane-Freeman, wife of ration distributer Frederick, lived among the Kainai Blackfoot, on what was then known as the Blood Reservation of Alberta. At this time, the Kainai were under pressure from the Canadian government to abandon traditional religious and social beliefs. Many people, faced with the threat of starvation, disposed of the regalia used in Blackfoot ceremonial life. Rather than see this beautiful material destroyed by the reservation agents, Maude purchased it from its original owners, building a substantial collection. She wrote that:

They are giving up the old life and customs, and trying to earn their living by toil like the white man, consequently the things that belong to their old life and religion are getting very scarce. As the old people die their belongings are buried with them and the younger generation seem to have lost their desire of making them, particularly as every obstacle is put in the way of their holding their religious dances.

Ceremonial Kainai tomahawk from the Deane-Freeman collection, c.1900, 93 x 37 cm. British Museum Am1903,-.82

Ceremonial Kainai tomahawk from the Deane-Freeman collection, c. 1900, 93 x 37 cm. British Museum Am1903,-.82

When Maude’s collection was discovered by her husband’s superiors, Frederick was summarily dismissed from his post and the couple moved to Toronto, where Frederick died soon afterwards. There, Maude’s collection was recognised by Governor-General of Canada Lord Minto as of great importance, and he arranged for it to be purchased by the government in 1903, dividing the collection between Victoria College in Toronto and the British Museum. A century later, the collection was reunited for an exhibition at Lethbridge, close to the Kainai Reservation, where the visitor interpretation and labels were provided by the families whose ancestors had once owned the material. This information continues to inform the presentation of the collection in the Native North American gallery at the British Museum.

Adrian Stimson’s provocative painting joins a growing body of modern Native American artwork which can be exhibited alongside and in direct dialogue with the existing historic collections of Native American artefacts at the British Museum, illustrating both the continuity of tradition and the modern environmental, political and social concerns of America’s First Peoples.

Filed under: British Museum, Collection, , , ,

Spring cleaning with Dürer: conserving the Triumphal Arch

Lauren Buttle, candidate for a Masters of Art Conservation, Queen’s University, Ontario, Canada

As a student placement in the Western Art on Paper Conservation Studio at the British Museum this summer, I was expecting a few objects to be placed on my workbench that would present some new and interesting challenges. I was not, however, expecting a 3.5 m x 3 m, 16th-century print collage.

As readers of Joanna Kosek’s previous article on this project will know, the task of unframing Albrect Dürer’s Triumphal Arch and transporting the work to the conservation studio was a major undertaking on its own. Now that the work is in the studio, the even trickier question arises: how do you clean the centre of such a large print? Unfortunately, as high-tech as the brand new studios here at the British Museum are, the option of having conservators suspended from the ceiling like ninjas, was not part of the design brief. A more practical option was designed by heads of department, Joanna Kosek and Caroline Barry, along with the conservation mounters.

To transport the print to the studio, a large tube was designed and created to gently roll up the Triumphal Arch. A secondary, smaller tube was then created to catch the print as it was partially unrolled onto the table. The surface of the print could then be cleaned in horizontal bands across the edge of the table and then rolled beneath the table surface onto the second roll in stages.

Diagram of surface cleaning set-up for Dürer’s Triumphal Arch

Diagram of the surface cleaning set-up for Dürer’s Triumphal Arch.

 

Although the print has been behind glass for at least 30 years there is still some surface dirt. If dust and dirt were not removed at this early stage then any subsequent wet treatments would fix the dirt in the paper fibres. While the surface cleaning of the print continues, the team carefully documents all aspects of condition and structure of each sheet of paper: everything from tiny pinholes to large watermarks and embossings. This information helps to inform us of the history of the print and will come in very useful during the next stages of treatment. To do this, thin sheets of transparent polyester are placed over each of the 42 individual pages that make up the image, and all characteristics of the page are mapped using permanent markers and a key of symbols created specially for this project by conservator, Megumi Mizumura.

Conservators, Emma Webb (left) and Megumi Mizumura (right) mapping out damage to individual pages of Dürer’s Triumphal Arch.

Conservators Emma Webb (left) and Megumi Mizumura (right) mapping out damage to individual pages of Dürer’s Triumphal Arch.

Once the mapping is complete, the fun begins! The conservation team has been hard at work for several weeks now using a variety of different dry sponges, erasers and brushes to lift the surface dirt from the print, taking care to avoid all printed media. This means using magnification and a steady hand to carefully clean in between each printed letter… for 10 square-metres. Luckily for us summer students, the conservation team have been happy to let us step in and get involved.

Conservation student placements, Tom Bower (left), Carina Rosas (centre) and Lauren Buttle (right) surface-cleaning Dürer’s Triumphal Arch.

Conservation student placements, Tom Bower (left), Carina Rosas (centre) and Lauren Buttle (right) surface-cleaning Dürer’s Triumphal Arch.

The cleaning continues in the studio for now. Once this is complete, the next step will be to remove the soiled and degraded textile backing from the assembled pages. No doubt, there will be more exciting challenges to come!

The conservation of Dürer’s Triumphal Arch has been made possible by the generous support of Howard and Roberta Ahmanson.

You can see an interactive zoomable image of the print here.

Filed under: Conservation, Dürer’s Triumphal Arch, , , , , ,

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, , , , ,

Conserving Dürer’s Triumphal Arch: photography and imaging

Ivor Kerslake, Photography and Imaging Manager, British Museum and Joanna Russell, Scientist, British Museum

Before any conservation treatment could commence, and with the Arch now out from behind its screen of glass for the first time in a generation, we were granted the opportunity to create a series of high-resolution images. The British Museum’s newly commissioned photographic studio was cleared for two days and Dürer’s masterpiece was expertly transported down the six flights of stairs and carefully unrolled in the main studio. Because of the fragility of the print we were unable to position the work vertically, which would have made our work considerably easier, so it was delicately unrolled on the floor. The challenge was then how to get high enough over the print to get it all within one shot. This was the first real test of the new facility. We decided to use a mobile extendable work platform (MEWP). Since the studio had been designed to enable access to and photography of large objects, we had sufficient space to manoeuvre.

Carefully unrolling the print ready for photography, with the mobile extendable work platform in place.

Carefully unrolling the print ready for photography, with the mobile extendable work platform in place.

Senior photographers, Kevin Lovelock and Saul Peckham used their skills to light the print to give an even and colour-balanced appearance, and also employed a raking light technique to highlight areas of special interest to both conservators and curators.

The print recto (front) in direct light.

The print recto (front) in direct light.

The print verso (back) in raking light

The print verso (back) in raking light.

Detail of cotton backing with embossed reversed '1515', the date in which the printing of the Arch commenced.

Detail of cotton backing with embossed reversed ‘1515’, the date in which the printing of the Arch commenced.

While the print was in the photographic studio, scientists Joanna Russell, Joanne Dyer and Antony Simpson took the opportunity to capture some detail shots using infrared and ultraviolet imaging.

Joanna Russell setting up the ultraviolet and infrared photography apparatus.

Joanna Russell setting up the ultraviolet and infrared photography apparatus.

Visible light is only a tiny part of the electromagnetic spectrum – beyond the red end of the visible spectrum is infrared radiation, and beyond the violet end is ultraviolet light. This non-visible radiation can also be recorded in images, by using special lights, cameras and filters. These imaging techniques may tell us more about the materials or construction of an object or artwork, depending on the ways the materials interact with the different wavelengths of light.

The ink used for the print absorbs infrared radiation, so appears clearly in these images, and is likely to be a carbon-based ink. However, an ink inscription becomes invisible in the infrared image, showing it is made using a different type of ink, probably iron gall ink.

TA_Pic_ed2

Left: A visible image of a detail from the Arch. Right: An infrared reflectogram of the same detail. The words ‘The Gate of the Nobility’ do not appear in the infrared image.

Ultraviolet light causes some materials to luminesce, that is to give off visible light. The ultraviolet-induced luminescence from the paper has a yellower appearance in one area of the detail shown below. This reveals that the scene in the bottom left of this detail is printed on a separate piece of paper to the surrounding areas.

Image showing an ultraviolet-induced luminescence detail. The scene in the lower left is printed on a paper with a more yellow luminescence than the surrounding areas.

Image showing an ultraviolet-induced luminescence detail. The scene in the lower left is printed on a paper with a more yellow luminescence than the surrounding areas.

The information revealed from these images can tell us more about how the Triumphal Arch was made, and can help to further inform the process of conserving the print.

The conservation of Dürer’s Triumphal Arch has been made possible by the generous support of Howard and Roberta Ahmanson. To find out more, see the earlier blog post here.

You can see an interactive zoomable image of the print here.

Filed under: Conservation, Dürer’s Triumphal Arch, , , , , ,

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, , , , ,

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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
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