Visiting the British Museum

Visiting the British Museum. May 2019

First I go to book to see the Eduard Munch finding out that they don't accept my press pass but

also that there is a little publicised half price deal if you are old enough after 12 noon on Mondays.

The buzzing hall where the shops and tickets are has the acoustics of a swimming pool and bright

lights that combined make me feel a bit woozy. I leave choosing between plastic cups decorated

with the writing from the Rosetta Stone, plaster copies of the Lewis chessmen and a thousand

other mementos until later and negotiate the stairs to the subterranean loos wth their noisy hand

driers.

The Parthenon frieze is as subtle and attractive as ever and I fancy more Greeks than any other

nation are there to admire the spoils of the British aristocracy. I find myself photographing friezes of

visitors, come to process around our Empire's collections.

There are two fairly new and stunning Islamic galleries where calligraphy appears written before

your eyes right to left in various scripts on illuminated screens. You can handle some objects, in my

case a thirteenth century ingenious wooden lock mechanism and an elaborate hollow silver

bracelet with volunteer knowledgeable attendant to explain all about them. Further on I find a

single ear piece, through which I hear intricate oud music whist seeing the instrument before

slotting the speaker back into its magnetic place.

Alongside the old exhibits there are contemporary pieces such as two porcelain doves printed with

the forms that Saudi Arabian women have to submit to be allowed to travel without male escorts.

There is much evidence in the displays of earlier times when people and animals were allowed as

decoration under previous islamic rulers.

At one point the cheerful babble of a school party of Muslim infants stops abruptly as their teachers

signal them to listen.

Down in the basement the African Benin bronzes from Nigeria are found alongside contemporary

masquerade figures. From the video I at last get it clear in my head how the Benin metal lost wax

casting is done.

There's a general air of wonderful interest and delighted reverence for craft and art in the visitors

quiet appreciation and it encourages for the lone visitor an occasional cheerful exchange about the

objects we see glowingly lit in the gloom or where to find the pizza restaurant with the varieties of

ice cream.

Queuing to have your bag searched on the way in, paying to leave your coat and avoiding the

instructions requesting £5 donations all seems worth it to be visiting the world's cultures without your feet leaving the ground.