Author: Rachel S

How should one communicate a complex field of science to a museum audience? This is the question that the Science Museum had to address when redeveloping its Who Am I? exhibition, which re-opened in June.

The exhibition poses the question “what makes you uniquely you?” and explores how genetics and neuroscience may help to provide answers. But it is not just the science that is complex: these areas of research have wider implications which must be discussed if people are to be fully engaged. Unfortunately the Science Museum over simplifies the science and side-steps many of these issues.

Who Am I? first opened in 2000, and has been redeveloped to ensure that the science is up to date. In the centre of the exhibition large cases of objects present science relating to subjects such as ageing, intelligence, gender and appearance. The themes are continued in computer-based interactive exhibits positioned nearby in large silver pods. 

The fact that there are any objects at all is impressive: the equipment used by modern biomedical science doesn’t lend itself easily to display and the concepts it investigates are often abstract. The Science Museum has overcome this by using objects as illustrations rather than as the main focus. For example a case on phobias contains jars of things people might be afraid of, such as string, spiders and balloons. Another case on physical appearance includes a 7-toed cat and a white peacock. All exhibits are accompanied by a wealth of labels – there is an unusual amount of text in this exhibition, no chance that visitors will not get the message.

But that message is confused. On one hand it is highly celebratory: science, particularly genetics, will provide an answer to everything. But then it has to acknowledge that actually our genes aren’t deterministic. A label on phobias is typical: they are “shaped by your genetic inheritance, your experience and by your environment” – which seems to be pretty much everything to me. So where does that leave us? Why not bite the bullet and say frankly that genes are only part of a very complex story and we don’t have the whole picture?

There is almost no mention of the wider social contexts of the science presented, or of controversies within science. A case that presents average body size, IVF, sexual attraction and gender identity (why are these considered together?) has very little mention of the difference between sex and gender and the role of society in defining the latter. An exhibit on intelligence mentions past controversies about racial and social biases in measuring intelligence, but does not acknowledge current similar controversies or question the need for such measurements. None of the interactive exhibits take up these issues. Attentive visitors may want to read the books located at the end of some cases, or use the two nicely presented but out-of-the-way ethics exhibits, but on my visit few visitors had chosen to look at either of these.

The Science Museum may feel it has to champion science, but by taking that approach to this subject it does itself and science a disservice. The areas of science presented here are highly complex and have some profound implications which must be thoroughly debated. Speaking at the launch event for the new exhibition three eminent scientists, Sir John Sulston, Dr Francis Collins and Prof Mike Stratton, eloquently wove together the scientific, social, political, ethical and legal factors of genetic science, highlighting the nuances and limitations of their research. That is the kind of debate that this subject needs and deserves. Who Am I? might be fun, but that is not the right kind of engagement. 

Who Am I? Science Museum, Exhibition Road, London SW7 2DD

This article appeared in People & Science, the magazine of the British Science Association, in September 2010.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

In the 1990s the Natural History Museum had a nasty surprise: the buildings housing its spirit collection – specimens kept in formaldehyde – were found to be unfit for purpose, and since formaldehyde is highly explosive this was a problem that needed to be dealt with pronto. The result was the first Darwin Centre. It was conceived as a new storage and laboratory space, but the last minute addition of a schedule of public events proved to be very popular. The recently opened Darwin Centre 2 hopes to build on and improve this “science and museum meet the public” approach in the Cocoon. In particular the NHM hopes to showcase its huge scientific research output. Visitors will certainly learn about some aspects of the Museum’s science, but it’s unfortunate that the Museum’s collection is scantily represented.

The exterior of the Cocoon is incredibly impressive. Designed by C F Møller Architects it is a long, thin, delicately curved structure that reaches eight-stories high. Finished in polished plaster, it a beautiful off-white colour with a slight marbled effect and resembles a large, smooth pebble. There is something rather tranquil about it. The Cocoon is located in a glass and steel atrium and abuts some of the NHM’s research labs, more of which later.

Visits to the Cocoon start on the top floor. Visitors spill out of the glass lift into a welcome lobby in the glass and steel building. From here it’s round the corner into the Cocoon which is dark, gloomy and has a rather industrial feel – all exposed services and concrete walls. There are two introductory audio-visual shows. One introduces us to four scientist guides, four real NHM scientists who crop up throughout the Centre. They are very charming, though clearly speaking from a script. The other film blinds us with impressive figures, most strikingly that the Cocoon houses nearly 20 million entomology and botanical specimens in more than 3.4km of cabinets. That’s a big wow factor, and certainly gets you thinking about what’s coming next….

…Which is why what comes next is a bit disappointing, because the Cocoon seems very empty. Visitors have to follow a fixed path through the centre that descends from one level to the next. The external walls are largely left as bare concrete, with an occasional artistic projection. The exhibits are housed in widely spaced niches in the centre of the Cocoon. Each niche presents a theme through a mixture of text panels, computer interactives, and surprisingly few specimens or other objects. It turns out that the 20 million specimens are housed in a part of the Cocoon that visitors don’t get to see. Even more disappointingly, at the end of the visit when there is a chance to pull out some draws and look at the specimens inside those specimens turn out to be photographs. Yes, photographs, not even facsimiles! 

The paucity of specimens is rather ironic because much of what the Darwin Centre tries to explain is the relationship between the specimens and the science that the Museum carries out. There is a particular emphasis on the importance of identifying, naming and classifying. There are niches that describe systems of classification, techniques used to identify specimens, how identification of species is important for preventative measures in areas prone to malaria (and, by extension, why it is important per se). The themes are only discussed in relation to science, which is a shame because these processes are central to museums as well and it feels as though an opportunity to explore the two sides of the Natural History Museum has been missed. 

Visitors can also learn about the practical application of the NHM’s work; for example the Museum’s involvement in identifying and collecting species has helped to create biological controls against whitefly and aided sustainable development in Panama. All this is presented in a very positive light. If the NHM had been brave it could have discussed some of the ethical issues surrounding its science, such as those concerning the collection of natural history specimens. 

A unique feature of Cocoon is that there are occasional glimpses into the Museum’s laboratories. What this shows is that science isn’t a glamorous occupation. In fact watching people sitting in front of a computer is not at all thrilling, although there is one room where scientists and visitors can speak to each other through an intercom. Being watched in this way can’t be very thrilling for the scientists either, and in some areas the Museum has had to put up signs asking visitors not to tap on the windows. This aspect of the Cocoon may seem like a damp squib, but arguably it’s a useful insight that counters some conventional, media-fuelled images of science.

In lieu of specimens – human or otherwise – the Cocoon has some very high-tech computer interactives. These suffer from some technical problems such as slow response times and lack of clear instructions, but their content is interesting and detailed. My favourite was about planning a field trip, which raised all kinds of issues that I hadn’t thought of before. There are also lots of videos of scientists talking about their work. The interactives and films are quite time consuming, but on my visit people seemed to be prepared to spend the time. 

The electronic content of the Cocoon continues outside the Museum on its website. Visitors have the option to pick up a NaturePlus card on the way into the Cocoon which allows them to select and store articles on a personalised page of the website. The articles are available at terminals dotted around the Cocoon, and the website contains messages boards and blogs. 

One could argue that Natural History Museum’s aim of showcasing its science has been achieved, but it’s not in an entirely satisfactory way. For a public-facing centre that sits on top of 20 million objects it seems ironic that so little of the collection is on display and that there is such a dependence on electronic content. For a centre that wants to discuss science, it’s a shame that there is no discussion of the complexities and ambiguities of research. Although the Cocoon succeeds in part, such a beautiful building deserves a more sophisticated approach.

The Darwin Centre, Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road, London SW7 5BD.

This article was first published in Museums Journal in 2009.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

Tucked away at the south end of Lambeth Bridge is the former church of St-Mary-at Lambeth. Threatened by demolition in the 1970s, the building was saved thanks to its connection to two outstanding gardeners. This is the place where John Tradescant and his son are buried, both of whom were royal gardeners and who introduced many new plants to Britain in the seventeenth century.  The Museum of Garden History that was founded in the 1970s has now undergone another transformation. A major building project has opened up the interior of the church, and the museum has become The Garden Museum.

The museum’s new airy, spacious interior bears little relation to its previous incarnation. Prior to this building project all of the museum’s facilities had been crammed into the single storey church. The reception, shop and exhibition merged into one another, there was little room to sit in the café, and exhibits had to be moved around to create space for seminars and other events. There was also no environmentally controlled space that would enable the museum to borrow objects for temporary exhibitions. Little wonder, then, that on his arrival as director Christopher Woodward decided it was time for renewal. 

The new interior was designed by Dow Jones Architects who had the idea of creating a belvedere inside the existing church structure. They have used a timber structure to create a single storey temporary exhibition space at the west end of the church. This space is fully enclosed so that the environment can be controlled. The timber walls of the exhibition space continue around the corner, creating additional storage areas without making the rest of the space feel cramped. 

Above the temporary exhibition space and storage areas sits a space that now houses the permanent exhibition and an education room. True to the concept of a belvedere, the permanent exhibition space is open to the rest of the church so that visitors have views over the nave and towards the stained glass windows at the far end. It is reached via a lift next to the entrance, or by the staircase that meanders up to the first floor from half way along the nave. The stairs serve a second function, namely to create a natural partition between the shop and the events space on the ground floor.

This simple architectural intervention in the building has done just what was asked of it. But it does have a downside: the newfound spaciousness of the museum can also make it feel a little empty. The events space is huge, but when there are no events going on it is simply filled with a line of tables on which are lever-arch files containing information on plants and/or press cuttings. The tables look as though they are waiting for executives to arrive for a board meeting, and the space feels as though it’s missing something. 

However, the temporary exhibition space makes up for this. At present there is an exhibition about the life and work of Beth Chatto, whose gardens within a garden at White Barn Farm introduced a new way of thinking about plants and gardening in the 1960s. The exhibition space has very simple cases that elegantly display photographs, and Chatto’s notes and books. There is art work by her mentor, Cedric Morris, and comments from those she has influenced, so that Chatto’s work is placed in a brief context of gardening history. The exhibition is very nicely designed, with a good use of large graphic panels showing images of Chatto’s creations, and a sympathetic colour scheme. In addition, for a paltry £2 visitors can buy a nicely produced and detailed catalogue.

Upstairs, the redisplay of the museum’s collection of gardening artefacts upstairs is certainly a refreshing change from the previous display. It is also a very small exhibition, and one can’t help feeling that there is more potential than has been realised. A tiny section titled ‘The Hired Gardener’ points out that the term gardener has ambiguous social status – from labourer to professional. This is a really interesting train of thought, but it isn’t really pursued. There is a case of tools belonging to “gentlemen gardeners” (including an all-in-one walking stick and pruning saw!) but it would be nice to have these put in the context of the trade/profession as a whole.

A similar kind of social context would be useful for other sections. The area on lawn care has some intriguing photographs of people posing with their lawnmowers. They were all taken between 1900 and 1935, and it would be wonderful to know why they were taken. 

One thing that is very clear from the exhibition, though not explicitly mentioned, is how little gardening tools have changed through the years. The case titled Oldest Tools contains items dating from 1500 to 1800. Without even reading the labels it is easy to identify shears, watering cans, dibbers and the like. It’s interesting to realise that we may have a more scientific understanding of plants and gardening today, but the tools we use have changed very little over hundreds of years.

Surprisingly there is little mention of the Tradescants. There is a copy of the catalogue of the Museaum Tradescantianuma tiny volume detailing the contents of the Tradescants’ garden in Latin, but that’s it. Perhaps they will be the subject of a later exhibition.

Once visitors have had their fill of gardening exhibits they can wander outside into the museum’s garden. The plants are labelled so that gardeners can take notes. Those whose gardening efforts aren’t always successful can take comfort from the very honest labels that accompany the formal knot garden, which document the trials and tribulations of dealing with dwarf box hedge. It’s refreshing to see that sometimes even professional gardeners run into difficulty.

The redesign of the museum has done exactly what was asked of it and the subtle change in name to the Garden Museum broadens the possibilities for future exhibitions. It’s true that the downstairs area does feel a little empty, and the permanent exhibition could be mined further, but with the addition of a temporary exhibition space this museum definitely feels revitalised.

The Garden Museum, 5 Lambeth Palace Rd, London SE1 7LB

This article was first published in Museums Journal in 2008.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

Dan Dare – “Pilot of the Future” – was the best known of the strips in the comic Eagle, which was published in the UK between 1950 and 1969. First drawn by Frank Hampson, Colonel Dare travelled throughout space in his personal spaceship, fighting his arch enemy the Mekon, ruler of the Treens, in amazing futuristic landscapes. Alongside Dan Dare Eagle also featured “cutaways”, detailed drawings of a piece of the latest British technology. Dan Dare and the Birth of Hi-Tech Britain at London’s Science Museum aims to explore how the country tried to reinvent itself in the post-war period to 1970. Unfortunately Dan Dare disappears from the scene early on, and the rather uneven content might leave visitors wonder why they shouldn’t go to see the Museum’s other technological exhibition, Making the Modern World, instead.

Visitors are introduced to Dan Dare in a huge room overlooking Exhibition Road on one side and a void in the centre of the Museum on the other. The windows are covered by blinds printed with scenes from Dan Dare stories, and suspended in the void is a Bristol Bloodhound anti-aircraft missile. This is surely a scene to excite all those visitors who read Eagle as a child. Text panels tell us a little bit about the history of the magazine and its creators. Display cabinets house original Dan Dare storyboards, drawings and memorabilia. Over by the missile is a reproduction of one of Eagle’s cutaways explaining the technology involved. 

But it isn’t clear how Dan Dare or Eagle are going to guide us through the rest of the exhibition. The exhibition explores post-war British technology up to 1970, but doesn’t include the architecture influenced by Hampson’s landscapes, and the cutaways get only the briefest of mentions in this room. But as it turns out, with the exception of this first room Dan Dare isn’t mentioned at all.

From here visitors have a choice of what to see next. The exhibition is wrapped around three sides of the rectangular central void, with the introductory room on a short side and the other two sections on each of the long sides. Take the right hand exit from the first room and you can see Building A New Britain, take the left had exit and see Reinventing the Home. 

Building a New Britain explores how Britain “set out to reinvent itself as hi-tech nation.” Divided into four sections, it examines themes such as health, industry, transport and the military. The exhibits in each section are densely packed. There are large-scale objects from dentists’ chairs to coal cutters and cars, as well as arrays of smaller items like hearing aids and NHS glasses. The objects are almost too dense: they feel crammed against the wall, hidden behind a barrier of text and graphics which tries not only to given stories behind each object, but also to contextualise them as well. Individually, the objects are really interesting and have many stories to tell. But packed together like this, without the chance to examine each on its own, it is easy to feel overwhelmed; there’s no break from the objects, graphics or text and it’s difficult to take it all in. 

The contextualisation is a little tricky, too. Although the text panels briefly acknowledge the post-war social contexts that were relevant to many of the developments on display, the over-arching tone is one of technological advance solving all problems. So for example, at one point the halving of child mortality and routine immunisation seem to be portrayed as the result of new technologies, without the role of the newly formed NHS being fully explained. 

The Science Museum is trying out some of its own new technology in the exhibition, and it’s in this part that visitors can test the mobile phone audio tour. By dialling a UK landline number followed by a three-digit code given on the text panels, visitors can hear a commentary about certain objects. The commentaries start with a dramatic scenario featuring the object, and then go on to give historical information. They’re fun, though they might not satisfy those who want serious, detailed, historical information. The mobile phone audio tour is a neat idea as it’s cheaper and easier than an audio guide – provided that you have a UK mobile phone and speak English. Perhaps in future the service will be expanded to offer cheap rate calls for overseas visitors and a choice of languages.

At the end of Building a New Britain, the awkwardness of the U-shaped space comes to the fore. To get to Reinventing the Home, visitors have either to retrace their steps or wade through a section of the Energy Gallery. Taking the latter option, visitors first encounter a bank of computers testing another new Science Museum technology. This one’s to do with the Ingenious website and the Object Wiki, though it isn’t clear what these are or how they relate to the exhibition. However it is quite possible that the terminals are there to fill space because if Building a New Britain felt overcrowded with objects, this section is almost deserted. It seems rather bizarre that the Science Museum doesn’t have many objects to illustrate post-war domestic technology, even if the story is the failure of British manufacturing to respond to more sophisticated foreign competitors. But then again, perhaps they are all in Making the Modern World?

Two floors below Dan Dare, Making the Modern World is a large permanent exhibition of objects that represent key technological developments in health, industry, transport and the home… Granted, this is more international in scope and over an extended period of time, but it clearly demonstrates that the museum has these objects in its collections, so why not show more of them here? 

Dan Dare is a strange exhibition: one that doesn’t quite use a famous cartoon character to present rather uneven content that is in danger of being outshone by another exhibition. The themes are interesting, and the using new technology for interpretation is a great idea, but the exhibition doesn’t live up to its promise.

Dan Dare and the Birth of Hi-Tech Britain was at the Science Museum, London in spring 2008.

A version of this article first appeared in Museums Journal in 2008.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

What do James Bond, the Internet and the moon landings have in common? Their development was influenced by the cold war. This war not only dominated the political agenda from 1945 to the collapse of the Soviet Union but also influenced cultural and scientific developments; and, arguably, its effects are still felt today. So the National Cold War Exhibition at RAF Cosford should have plenty of material to work with to provide an insight into this important and often frightening period of history. But rather than tease out the complexities of the cold war the exhibition presents an oversimplified and sometimes glib account. It might be better to come clean and say that this is really an exhibition of military hardware.

The exhibition is housed in an impressive and enormous new building. From the outside it has an elegant twisted shape; inside it is designed to look like a rather upmarket aircraft hangar, with polished concrete floors, and exposed steel structure and roof. You would expect a ‘wow’ factor when walking in to such a space, but it is strangely missing. Instead, steel columns obstruct the sightlines and it isn’t until you’re someway into the building that you can actually get a good idea of what’s there. Then you see that the space is divided into three areas: an upper level with large exhibits, a lower level, also with large objects, and a walkway in between the two which contains most of the historical information.

The walkway starts near the entrance with two text panels on the origins of the cold war. It’s perhaps here that the downfall of the exhibition begins. With the exception of a quotation from Harry Truman the emphasis in these panels is on nuclear war. There is no mention of the underlying ideological differences between the USSR and the West, which really fuelled the war. Without this important scene-setting information the cold war becomes too black and white. 

Further along the walkway are eight structures designed to look like pieces of wall – concrete-grey and topped with barbed wire, homage to the Berlin Wall no doubt. Each is divided into three: two text and graphic panels labelled “West” and “East” flank a central case of small objects. Each piece of wall is on a theme – land armies, sport, freedom, arts, spies etc. and the panels discuss the theme from east and west perspectives. But it isn’t easy to do that in a few hundred words and the panels fall into the trap of trying to play one side off against the other with the result of being glib. So, the ‘freedom’ theme tells us how most countries in the West were democratic “although some, like Greece, Portugal and Spain, had dark periods” – an understatement that should raise some eyebrows. The same panel glosses over the civil rights movement in the US (although the dominant photo is of a group of smiling young black men), and McCarthy doesn’t get a mention. That’s not to say that life in the USSR was great by any stretch of the imagination, but nor was the West a bed of roses. Reducing the cold war to “West good, East bad” implies little reflection on a complex period and would seem to miss the point about two opposing ideologies.

Moving away from the walkway on the upper and lower levels visitors can see the bulk of the exhibition, a huge range of military hardware from tiny MiG fighter planes to huge US transport planes, from small missiles to a “multi purpose nuclear weapon”. Some planes are positioned at ground level, others are suspended from the ceiling in poses of derring-do – climbing steeply, banking sharply, flying upside-down. A Vulcan bomber on the upper level is so big that it’s almost impossible to get a sense of its size. Its wing and nose hang over the edge and dangle over the exhibits below. Even on the upper level you can comfortably walk underneath it and look up into the open bomb bay doors… and that’s about it. The text panels accompanying the exhibits are brief but highly technical so in order to appreciate the objects visitors already have to know something about them and/or be interested in technical specifications. The beautifully designed touchscreen information points, which are positioned throughout the exhibition, read like a technical manual: dimensions, weights, commissioning dates etc. For military enthusiasts this must be a dream, but for those who don’t have that knowledge or interest there is no way to engage with the exhibits.

Amongst these large objects there are kiosks on other aspects of the cold war such as the Cuban missile crisis and the Berlin wall. These are a mixture of text panels and audio-visual material. But as with the walkway, the presentation is black and white and skips over many complex issues. The outside of the ‘global conflicts’ kiosk mentions a range of wars that were created or escalated by the cold war, but they are treated skimpily. Inside the history of the Vietnam war is outlined, but this famous and significant war has been recounted many times, in many forms and in greater depth. Maybe this was a chance to highlight other cold war conflicts that are equally significant but less talked about?

It is difficult to understand why this is the National Cold War Exhibition. Although limited in its interpretation the exhibition clearly shows that it was a global war. And though the hardware is predominantly British, there is nothing to say whether the British technology made a special contribution. This adds to the sense that the exhibition isn’t really sure what it’s about. It wants to be an exhibition of late-twentieth century military planes for those in the know, but has decided to couch it in terms of the cold war. Unfortunately it hasn’t got to grips with that complex and nuanced period of history, so for those who aren’t aviation enthusiasts this cold war is a bit of a damp squib.

The National Cold War Exhibition, RAF Museum, Lysander Avenue, Cosford, TF11 8UP

This article was first published in Museums Journal in 2007, when the exhibition first opened.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

Leonardo drew it, the Ink Spots sang about it, and Channel 4 broadcasts it. Anatomy has fascinated a multitude of people for centuries. And why not, for it shows us how we are. Anatomy Acts, currently at Edinburgh’s City Art Centre, is an exhibition formed from medical collections held in Scotland. These contain objects that represent medical thought across the UK and the rest of Europe from the fifteenth century to the present day. However, the way the exhibits are grouped in this exhibition means that some of the depth of the collections may be missed.

The drawings and models on display are beautifully crafted, and all have been created to record the latest thinking about, or investigations of, the body. Many were used as teaching aids, and consequently there are some exhibits that may not be for the squeamish or the sensitive! Anatomy Acts divides the objects into five themes, Growing & Forming, Feeling, Looking & Listening, Mirroring & Multiplying, and Charting. To varying degrees these themes can be thought of in more than one way, which gives a nice play on ideas. However not all the themes are successful, and it leaves the nagging doubt of whether playing with words has disrupted the potential of the exhibition.

The first theme, Growing & Forming, is given the whole of the first floor of the exhibition. The first section of this explores human anatomy. Amongst the exhibits there are mid-nineteenth century watercolours of reproductive organs next to early C20th high contrast black and white images of tumour sections. These latter images are abstract, and give the notion of ‘growing and forming’ rather sinister connotations. The second section of this theme explores animal anatomy, and here the concept of ‘growing and forming’ gets a bit lost. The connections with human anatomy are not clear and it is only by reading one of the books on display that it starts to make sense. John Bell’s 1797 book “The Anatomy of the Human Body Volume 2” is opened at a page showing a line drawing of a frog. The opposite page discusses and compares the respiratory systems of various animals – obviously at the time this was how anatomy was thought about. The final part of this theme returns to human anatomy, but the idea of ‘growing and forming’ becomes even more tenuous. It doesn’t necessarily detract from the exhibits, which are fascinating on their own, but it is slightly annoying.

Upstairs on the next floor the themes of Feeling and Looking & Listening are explored. Feeling is perhaps the least successful of all the themes. The introductory text explains the double meaning: artists express feeling in their work and surgeons and anatomists feel for parts of the body (through touch) in their work. This is all very well, but the exhibits don’t reflect these ideas at all. There are a few paintings that might be ‘art’ rather than ‘scientific representations’ and there’s an operating table, but otherwise the exhibits seem to be much the same as on the previous floor only without the animals. Looking & Listening explores ways of seeing and hearing the body as well as the anatomy of the ear and eye. This theme starts with a video projection of recent images of the body taken in Scottish hospitals. These would be more interesting if there was some explanation of the different imaging techniques and if there wasn’t the feeling that this is really an exercise in waving the flag for imaging in Scottish hospitals. Perhaps the most interesting exhibit in this section is the 1950s design for an ultrasound scanner. It looks huge, with disconcerting levers and dials that make it look like something from a sci-fi film. It’s a comment on how medical imaging techniques have changed in a relatively short space of time.

The final floor houses the themes Mirroring & Multiplying and Charting. The first of these is supposed to explore techniques such as stereoscopic images, but although there is one such image the rest of the content looks familiar. In fact, there are lots of obstetrics-related images here that surely should have belonged in the first theme. Finally, Charting is about plotting and mapping the human body…which is presumably what the images in the rest of the exhibition do.

The exhibits in Anatomy Acts could be represented in many ways. They are careful crafted objects of art. They also represent changing medical thought over many centuries; for example, William Harvey’s 1628 groundbreaking treatise on the heart and circulation is on display here. By showing changing attitudes to medicine and the practice of anatomy, the objects also reflect the wider social and cultural attitudes of their time. This depth of meaning falls victim to the themes chosen for the exhibition. The themes privilege the aesthetic interpretation over all the others and so many of the stories the objects are able to tell are hidden. That’s not to say they are impossible to find, but the onus is on the inquisitive and perhaps already knowledgeable visitor.

The emphasis on the aesthetic has two other knock-on effects. The exhibition contains some specially commissioned art work and poetry, but unfortunately some of this sits uneasily with the other exhibits as it doesn’t have the depth of the anatomical works. The exhibition also contains a handful of documents and objects from non-Western traditions. But as cultural attitudes to medicine and anatomy (Western or otherwise) are not properly explored, these objects feel tokenistic. 

Anatomy Acts was created to promote Scottish medical collections, and there’s no doubt there is a lot to shout about. These exhibits are not only beautiful, they can tell us a lot about medicine over many centuries and about the society of the time. However, by choosing themes that don’t quite work much of this depth has been lost.

Anatomy Acts was at City Art Centre, Edinburgh in May and June 2006.

This article first appeared in Museums Journal in 2006

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

The newly opened Bury Museum and Archive is taking a refreshingly open-ended approach to displaying history. It has done away with didacticism, and has decided to let visitors make their own connections between the objects on display. It doesn’t always work, but it’s great to see someone try.

The museum and archive are situated on the lower ground floor of Bury’s existing art gallery, and the new development brings all three collections under the same roof for the first time. From the entrance hall of the Victorian building you can now go up to the art gallery or through an etched glass door, down into the museum. The staircase into the museum leaves behind the relative grandeur of the entrance: it is simple and undecorated but still distinctly Victorian … until you come to the bottom. Here the space opens out to two minimalist gallery spaces – limestone floors, white walls, very well lit. 

There are currently three displays in the museum, all of which present objects that relate to Bury, its local history and how that history fits into wider national and international events. The displays are object rich, but what is refreshing is that they are not fighting for space with reams of labels and text panels. In fact, with the exception of a handful of labels, the text is confined to the title of the display or a few contemporary quotes. This is more than enough to indicate the subject, whilst leaving visitors to create their own connections between objects and to follow their own thoughts about the subject matter. This open-endedness is a real treat.

The first gallery contains a single display comprising nine cases set into a wall. The only text gives the title: Changing communities, places, times. The central case holds a series of large objects including a wooden stand and an over-the-top gilt pitcher. To either side are four smaller cases with a variety of objects. One of the smaller cases contains Victoriana, another is full of toys, and a third contains archaeological finds such as flints and pottery. It’s not difficult to guess that these are objects connected with Bury: excavated, donated, manufactured or typical of Bury life at some time. Taken as a whole the cases provide a history of Bury through things left behind, and rather than being told what to think about them, visitors are able to create their own train of thought about the implications. 

Not all the cases are easy to follow, though. The connection between the terracotta bust of Queen Victoria and a 1930s doll takes some guessing (something to do with the importance of younger generations, which is a little tenuous). However, there are well-produced booklets located by the seats in the centre of the gallery for those who require further information. These not only list the objects on display but also give some of their history, and locate them within the context of other events. To complement the cases, on the opposite wall a screen shows clips of film from Bury’s history. There are also two nicely produced touchscreen interactives that give comprehensive information about the museum and its renovation. 

The second gallery space houses two displays. The first continues the theme of changing communities and times but focuses on hygiene and sanitation. Again, there is no ‘text’ in the usual sense, just three quotations that sum up the theme of the display. Only a few of the objects are labelled, and these provide enough information for visitors to then make sense of what else in the case. For example, two wooden water pipes are labelled, and placed near a six-pack of mineral water and modern water pipes (all unlabelled): the connection is obvious but the train of questions and thoughts the juxtaposition sets off is left to the visitor to contemplate. The display does not force the issue, or assume it knows the ‘important’ questions, or pretend it can say everything on a label or panel. Visitors are left to explore meaning and implications for themselves. 

Again, not everything works perfectly. The positioning of a modern toothbrush on a Victorian washstand is out of keeping with the rest of the display. And what is a pair of obstetric forceps doing with the shaving implements? Nevertheless it is great to see a display that doesn’t want to dictate to its visitors.

The final display is a moving account of the landing at Gallipoli in 1915. It is a single case with objects set against a background of images of local men who lost their lives. The objects are not out of the ordinary for a WWI exhibition – a Vickers gun, some barbed wire, a collection of medals. What makes them poignant is the single panel of text that contains only contemporary accounts. Reading these creates a series of images that places the objects in context in a way that dry curatorial text cannot. 

The museum is encouraging visitors to explore Bury’s past and present in more ways than interrogating the displays. The archive is situated next to the second gallery and its study area is clearly visible through a glass wall. The door is open, and you can walk in and make an enquiry. It will be interesting to see if this ‘transparency’ encourages previous non-users to go in.

By not feeling that it needs to tell visitors what to think about its exhibitions, and therefore recognising the multitude of thoughts and meanings associated with the subjects, Bury Museum and Archive has produced a series of open-minded displays. In spite of the few sections of the displays that are a bit obscure, the resultant feeling from these exhibitions is that visitors are included in the history of Bury and are encouraged to think about it, rather than having it imposed on them. Add to that the very good supporting booklets and extremely knowledgeable staff and this is a great opening. 

Moss Street, Bury, BL9 0DR

This article first appeared in Museums Journal in 2005.

Since this was published the Museum has undergone further renovation and is now Bury Art Museum and Sculpture Centre.

Related Categories

Exhibition Reviews

There has been a lot of talk about literacy initiatives in schools but still children’s books get little attention from adults. They are rarely reviewed in mainstream press, and bookshops tend to have only a small selection of the many available titles. But this should change if Seven Stories: the Centre for Children’s Books has its way. Based around a unique collection of literature and illustration for children the centre wants to engage visitors in conversation about storytelling and bookmaking. Judging by the current displays it should provide young readers and budding authors and illustrators with a wealth of inspiration.

Seven Stories’ founding directors, Elizabeth Hammill and Mary Briggs, started collecting the archive 1996. They aimed to collect not only the finished article but also works that show the process of writing and illustrating, including manuscripts, sketches and research materials. Seven Stories provides a series of spaces in which the people who read the books can explore not only the stories, but also those process of creating them. It includes exhibition spaces, workshop and drama spaces as well as a café and dedicated children’s bookshop. 

The current exhibition is a great example of how the collection can be used to engage children with books and storytelling. Incredible Journeys explores four themes based around key elements of storytelling: place, words, time and character. Each section contains sketches, manuscripts and finished works, and although there are a selection of hands-on activities the literature and illustrations are the stars of the show.

There is something here for people of all ages. Each room has a graphic backdrop designed by a different children’s illustrator. Artworks from the archive are hung at child-friendly height, though not so low that adults have to stoop. It is a visual feast for young eyes that want to enjoy seeing characters from books they know. For those experimenting with language World of Words features witty poems that explore word play against a backdrop illustrated by Satoshi Kitamura. 

For anyone who enjoys storytelling or perhaps wants to be a writer or illustrator the exhibition provides a wealth of inspiration that clearly expresses the raison d’etre of the archive. This comes not just from the variety of ideas on display, but because the exhibition shows how the work is produced. 

Perhaps one of the clearest examples of this is found in World of Characters. It is a case containing J K Rowling’s draft for chapter six of the first Harry Potter book alongside a plan for chapter seven and a sketch to help her visualise her characters. There is not a page of the draft chapter that isn’t covered in crossing out and revisions. The chapter plan shows Rowling ordering her thoughts and working out a plan of action for the story. Here is one part of the writing process, more eloquently explained than in any ‘how to’ manual.

The Time Room shows another part. Pinned on the wall are photos of the garden at King’s Mill House which was the inspiration for Phillipa Pearce’s story Tom’s Midnight Garden. The adjacent case shows that inspiration is just the start. Pearce was meticulous in her research and the case contains books, diaries, records of conversations and letters she wrote to check facts. For any budding author here are some valuable tips. For those who are just keen readers, perhaps there will be a deeper understanding of how stories are created.

There is encouragement for young illustrators too. The artworks in the exhibition cover all stages of the design process, from Angela Barrett’s sketch book to Peter Boston’s illustrations that are marked up with directions for the printer. Many of the drawings are one offs, though; perhaps future exhibitions will show illustrations at all stages of development, from sketches to the finished article.

As with many museums, Seven Stories can only show a selection of its collection at any one time. The archive is in fact housed at Newcastle University as there are no onsite storage facilities at the centre. However, some of the collection has been digitised and this can be accessed from Seven Stories in Story Lab, a dedicated space where students and researchers will be able to have computer access to the digitised collection.

The other spaces in Seven Stories continue to explore the process of writing and drawing through workshops, talks and drama. The flexibility of the spaces allows for a wide range of activities suitable for all age groups and interests, and there is an interesting programme of forthcoming events. At the top of the building Artists’ Attic is set in the rafters, and the exposed beams combine with drapes to give a theatrical feel to the space. It is an area for storytelling, drama and talks. Engine Room is an education and workshop space set in a bright, naturally lit room at the bottom of the building, overlooking the river. There is plenty of room for a group to sit and listen to a story; alternatively there are lots of props to aid in story telling or to use as inspiration for drawings. Events include workshops by illustrators and ‘walk in‘ activities which link to ideas in the exhibitions. Current activities include Word Factory where visitors can make their favourite words out of brightly coloured pipe cleaners and stick them on a wall for all to see. It’s fun to do, and interesting to read everyone else’s words.

There is a real buzz at Seven Stories. The enthusiasm for books and illustration at is hard to miss, and it is great to find somewhere that manages to convey that enthusiasm so effortlessly to a wide range of age groups. It is equally hard to see how it can fail to engage new generations of readers, authors and illustrators.

Seven Stories, 30 Lime St, Newcastle upon Tyne NE1 2PQ

This article first appeared in Museums Journal in 2005

Related Categories

Exhibition reviews