Truth be told, I'd already been nervous about that London visit for some reason. The week before hadn't gone completely to plan for various reasons so I was already on edge when on reaching the Museum I discovered that the one working men's toilet was in the basement (as long term readers will know I spend half my time in museums and art galleries traipsing to and from the lavatory so the closer it is to the objects the better). Then the wrap bought in the cafe was pretty horrendous, a smooshy concoction with large raw piece of broccoli root in the middle. Then there's the map of the museum which is incredibly confusing if you don't already appreciate the geography of the building.
Such things sound like pretty low level issues but if you're already a bit tense they begin to add up. Once I was in the museum space with the map searching for the Europe section, my head began to spin. When I eventually reached the section I was after, my bladder was already screaming at me, the toilet so, so far away. Between that, the sheer number of people moving around and existing and objects in display cases placed so close to each other in the rooms, one of the largest museums in the world began to give me sensory overload, like the final moments of the Doctor Who episode Turn Left but with the word "distraction" printed across all the surfaces.
Everything just got too much for me and I ended up having to run to a bench and phoning someone I could trust so that I could hear a voice which would take me out of the environment. Eventually Mum was able to coax me back and I left as soon as I could, feeling incredibly defeated. Apart from a visit to the nearby camera museum with its chronology of machines in the basement, the day went pretty much downhill from there and I ended up getting an earlier train home. Although I'm sure it's not for these reasons, for the first time I understood why some people don't like London. Sometimes it's a little bit too everything all together.
Access to the Collection.
The museum is open daily 10.00–17.30 and Fridays 10.00–20.30. Due to its size, I can't honestly say how many of the paintings on the Art UK website are on display. When it first opened, the National Gallery was essentially part of the British Museum so its art collection was transferred there. As one of the notes on the Museum's Wikipedia page says, "Sculptures and applied art are in the Victoria and Albert Museum; the British Museum houses earlier art, non-Western art, prints and drawings. Art of a later date is at Tate Modern. The National Gallery holds the National Collection of Western European Art. Tate Britain holds British Art from 1500 onwards."
Collection Spotlight.
Hokusai's The Great Wave off Kanagawa is graphically complex and thrilling artwork depicting the threat of watery chaos against three boats off the coast of the southern prefecture of Japan. The white foam looks like claws about to pull the fishermen to their death, demonstrating the ongoing conflict between man and nature. It also somewhat captures what it's like to have anxiety, forever under threat that you're about to overwhelmed knowing that eventually you will be engulfed despite taking medication, despite knowing that it will pass, hoping that that if you do capsize you'll still be able to make it back to shore.
Two things worth noting for the purposes of this project. Firstly, it's not listed on the Art UK website which again opens up the discussion about the line drawn between museum ethnographic artifacts and public art collections - although it's worth nothing that because the database began life as the Your Paintings section on the BBC website, it doesn't necessarily feature prints or drawings yet, that would be another massive undertaking. But it is one of my favourite objects in the BM's collection and with the greatest respect far more interesting than the paintings which do feature on the Art UK website which are mainly of interest in relation to the history of the museum.
Secondly, it isn't on the walls, only brought out every couple of years as a precaution against damage, something I only discovered on a further visit this month to see it. Not wanting to be emotionally destroyed by a building, after visiting Leighton House and the surrounding sites, I returned to the museum, taking advice from a few people online to use the side entrance which was indeed a lot more civilised and with less queues. Holborn tube station may be adorned with British Museum advertising, but Goodge Street is just as close and allows you to skip the crowds. London is always somehow less intimidating when you're acting like a local.
Before visiting I googled the artwork to check whether it was on display. You see I did do some homework, and this page on the website indicates "On display: G35/od" - I assumed the letters and numbers were some kind of room designation. Not wanting to have to deal with the map again, I approached the information desk for directions, only to be told that it wasn't in fact on display. Dejectedly I suggested that perhaps the website should be updated to say as much upon which the clerk showed me this page which does indeed show that it is "not on display". Being me I trapsed up to the Japan gallery to check anyway only to find a sign on the wall explaining its absence.
Needless to say, I've emailed the collections database department at the museum for an explanation. Looking now, the acquisition details are different in each entry which suggests the British Museum actually owns two copies of the print but that doesn't explain why one of them is listed as being on display when it appears neither of them are. I'll rewrite and complete this paragraph when I get a response.
