“In some countries you wouldn’t have the right to visit this exhibition about your rights.”

The handout for the British Library’s exhibition makes its point emphatically. You might look at some of the documents displayed here and think they are just dry, dusty old bits of paper – but the history of British freedom is a long one, and without that history, we wouldn’t have the freedom to live our lives as we do.

When I was at school I got the benefit of what could broadly be called the Whig view of history – Magna Carta, the Glorious Revolution of 1688, the extension of suffrage, were all shown as a great tradition of progress. Actually, the history of liberty is much more chequered than that would indicate – and there are different traditions, too, spreading liberty at grass roots level rather than, as in the Whig history, dispensing it graciously from the top down. I was impressed by the Laws of Hywel Dda and a decree of Robert the Bruce, as well as by the heterodox libertarianism of John Lilburne and Thomas Rainsborough, seventeenth century revolutionaries.

The exhibition also includes audio visual content such as a discussion of the current controversy over detention without charge, an interview with public executioner Albert Pierrpoint (chilling in its matter-of-factness), and two immigrants from India and the Caribbean in the 1950s talking about their experiences.

The exhibition comes right up to date with a section on gay rights and the work of Stonewall and Outrage, as well as recent developments such as the Human Rights Act.

Some of the exhibits bring you so close to history you can practically smell it. Here you’ll find Charles I’s death warrant. Cromwell’s signature is not at the top, but third in line. You’ll also see one of only four extant copies of Magna Carta.

The exhibition is also interactive. Visitors are able to vote on various issues, using wristbands issued at the exhibition. (What I found intriguing was that the experience of wearing a wristband to go round the exhibition was a bit like wearing handcuffs or shackles. I wonder if that was intended?)

I found this a thought provoking exhibition. If you do go, allow yourself a good hour to wander around and browse the exhibits.

Where: The British Library, Euston Road NW1- King’s Cross tube

When: till 1 March 2009:930-6 weekdays (late opening till 8 on Tuesday); 930-5 Saturdays and 11-5 Sundays.

How much: free

Picture credit: Gaetan Lee on Flickr

Post from: The London Traveler

Some things make me very cross. Here’s one of them. It may not mean much to you.

The British Museum puts the Etruscans under ‘Roman’.

Okay, let’s explain. The Etruscans were the original inhabitants of much of Italy – before the Romans. They had a culture which was much more friendly to women (Rome was notoriously misogynistic), which produced brilliant art, which welcomed immigrants from Greece and Phoenicia, and which was highly literate (though we have only a few words of their language).

The Romans destroyed the Etruscans. They stole bits of Etruscan culture but they destroyed Etruscan society.

So it strikes me that filing the Etruscans under ‘Roman’ is not just ironic. It’s rather disrespectful.

Still, at least they have their own room – Room 71. And here you can see some really lovely work from their civilisation – which lasted five hundred years and which, many Etruscans seem to have believed,  would have a finite lifecycle just like a man, a tree, or a horse.

Etruscans were fine metalworkers in both bronze and precious metals. Even the bronze helmet, which must have been primarily functional, has an incredibly crisp design and execution. More startling is the gold jewellery, which uses techniques like filigree and granulation to create shimmering surfaces – incredibly detailed work considering these metalworkers had no magnifying glasses to make their work easier.

There are amazing bronze mirrors, too, with scenes from mythology incised on the back. Quite often, the Etruscans take Greek mythology as their subject – they had no qualms about borrowing stories from other pantheons and other peoples. Looking at the sheer number and beauty of these mirrors you just know that the Etruscans were a people who took their appearance very seriously.

And incredibly, you can even see a piece of Etruscan painting, 2,500 years old.

But the piece I always feel closest to is a sarcophagus – the tomb of Seianti Hanunia Tlesnasa, who must have died about 150 BC and was buried near Chiusi, in Tuscany. It’s a fine work – look at the way she’s holding a mirror in her left hand, and wearing all her finest jewellery. She was clearly a wealthy woman.

She died when she was about 55 – we know this, and quite a lot of other things, from the analysis of the remains within the sarcophagus. We know what she looked like – her face has been recreated from the skull – and we know that this sarcophagus is, though idealised, a real portrait of her. We know that she had a bad accident in her teens – perhaps a riding accident. We know she had bad arthritis, and an abcess that probably gave her bad breath.  She probably couldn’t speak very easily, and mumbled, because of her jaw injury.

And we know this is a real portrait. You’re looking at a real woman here – an incredibly strange and powerful feeling.

There are so many other things to see in the British Museum. Romans, Greeks, Ancient Egypt; Lindow Man and medieval clocks, Japanese prints and Assyrian gates. But don’t miss the Etruscans. They’re worth knowing – as is Seianti Hanunia Tlesnasa

Photo credit: Seaianti Hanunia Tlesnasa, courtesy of Alun Salt on flickr 

Post from: The London Traveler

He’s about two thousand years old, so I like to make sure he’s okay.

But on a recent visit I found he’d upped sticks!

Pete Marsh is a well preserved male body (well, the upper half, anyway) found in a bog in Cheshire in 1984. The bog gave him his name – Peat Marsh, geddit?

He must have been some kind of sacrifice, having been killed in three ways – strangled, his throat cut, and knocked on the head as well. (Either that or he was an early football fan…)

And chemical analysis shows that although we believe the ancient Britons ran around covered in woad (which is blue), Pete was actually a little green man – painted with green vegetable dye before he was killed.

He is mysterious. Perhaps he was a Druid prince (the body showed no signs of hard labour – he’d lived the life of a scholar, or a noble, looked after by others). And he’s also rather gruesome in his little glass case.

But if you want to see him, you’ll have to take a trip to Manchester where he’s currently the star of his own exhibition - Lindow Man: A bog body mystery at  the Manchester Museum. He won’t be back in the BM till April 2009.

Oh yes, Lindow Man is his official name. But I prefer Pete. It suits him, somehow.

Post from: The London Traveler

It’s just been restored, and it’s on show together with a reconstruction of the colours as they would have been when it was freshly painted – vibrant as it is, the original has faded.

Just looking at it you feel the energy of the composition. But what’s really interesting about it is that there are two stories here. There’s the crucifixion of course.  You can see the centurion with the spear on the left of the cross, and the two crucified thieves to right and left.

But there’s also the story of Bishop Selama, who was head of the Ethiopian Church from 1841 to 1867, set around the edges of the painting, as well as other episodes from the Easter story.  That creates a layered meaning, with multiple stories, so that you can see the whole history of the Ethiopian Church up to Selama’s day as a continuous tradition starting with the events of Easter week.

What I love most of all is the way all these scenes fit together in a sort of complex jigsaw. I’d not really come across Ethiopian art before, but this Tigrayan painting makes me want to see more.

Photo reproduced by courtesy of the British Museum

Post from: The London Traveler

‘Icons of Revolution’ in Room 69a is an exhibition of Mao badges. While western teenagers were pinning CND badges, anarchy pins, or university clips to their denim jackets, in China the compulsory lapel badge was a portrait of Mao.

I rather think this exhibition would have appealed to Andy Warhol!

Post from: The London Traveler

Chinese lanterns will show the signs of the zodiac, and there will be craft workshops, including “Make your own Terracotta Army” – or at least one terracotta soldier. There’ll be a performance of ‘Monkey – Journey to the West’  – a Chinese classic, but with music by Damon Albarn. This is at six o’clock – you’ll need to book your free tickets  when you get to the museum, though, since space is limited. There is a shadow puppet theatre, performing various plays, and there will also be Chinese films showing. The museum will be open till midnight so you have loads of time to enjoy the various events.

This accompanies the splendid exhibition ‘The First Emperor’ which focuses on the  heritage of Qih Shuangdi, and includes many figures from his terracotta army. While the sense of immensity that’s present when you see the thousands of figures in their original setting is missing, this is a chance to get close to the figures and appreciate the detail. Take advantage of the late night opening from Thursday to Sunday (last entry 2250) – but be sure to book in advance.

Half term (18-22 February) will see more activities for children and their families on the Chinese theme, with games and workshops. Again, admission is free.

Post from: The London Traveler