Steven J. Pemberton's Blog - Posts Tagged "temporary_exhibition"
War Horse: Fact & Fiction
My partner and I went to an exhibition at the National Army Museum in London, about the role of the horse in warfare - http://www.nam.ac.uk/microsites/war-h...
It's the exhibition of the painting of the film of the play of the book - or something like that. The book, of course, is War Horse by Michael Morpurgo. An author's note mentions a painting of Joey, the horse of the title, done by one of the characters in the book. Readers have taken to visiting the Devon village where Mr Morpurgo lives, asking where they can see this painting, and go away disappointed when they learn he made the whole thing up. (What authors can and can't get away with inventing might be a topic for a future post.)
But then the film makers needed an artist to create the pictures that the character is supposedly painting, and Mr Morpurgo commissioned her to paint a picture like the one he described, so he can hang it in the village hall, just like the book says. (I wonder if visitors will be told that it's not the real one, or that the real one never existed?)
Before it goes to Devon, though, the painting features in this exhibition. As the name suggests, it's partly about War Horse, the story, in all its incarnations (though mainly the play) and partly about what life was really like for war horses. It doesn't try to sugarcoat anything, and so may not be suitable for young children.
There are sections about battles where cavalry made a difference, or sometimes failed to - Hastings, Agincourt, Balaclava (the Charge of the Light Brigade). Cavalry charges were apparently rare, but tended to succeed spectacularly or fail disastrously, which makes them memorable, regardless of the eventual outcome of the battle.
I was surprised, given all the fuss there's been about the painting, that it's not the centrepiece of this exhibition. It's much smaller than I expected, and is tucked away near the end. I nearly walked right past it.
Allow 1-2 hours to go round the exhibition, depending on whether you read all the text that accompanies the displays (there's quite a lot of it). We went around the rest of the museum, too, which took about 5 hours altogether. The cafe is good and reasonably priced by London standards. I'd recommend this exhibition to anyone who's interested in horses and/or the military.
It's the exhibition of the painting of the film of the play of the book - or something like that. The book, of course, is War Horse by Michael Morpurgo. An author's note mentions a painting of Joey, the horse of the title, done by one of the characters in the book. Readers have taken to visiting the Devon village where Mr Morpurgo lives, asking where they can see this painting, and go away disappointed when they learn he made the whole thing up. (What authors can and can't get away with inventing might be a topic for a future post.)
But then the film makers needed an artist to create the pictures that the character is supposedly painting, and Mr Morpurgo commissioned her to paint a picture like the one he described, so he can hang it in the village hall, just like the book says. (I wonder if visitors will be told that it's not the real one, or that the real one never existed?)
Before it goes to Devon, though, the painting features in this exhibition. As the name suggests, it's partly about War Horse, the story, in all its incarnations (though mainly the play) and partly about what life was really like for war horses. It doesn't try to sugarcoat anything, and so may not be suitable for young children.
There are sections about battles where cavalry made a difference, or sometimes failed to - Hastings, Agincourt, Balaclava (the Charge of the Light Brigade). Cavalry charges were apparently rare, but tended to succeed spectacularly or fail disastrously, which makes them memorable, regardless of the eventual outcome of the battle.
I was surprised, given all the fuss there's been about the painting, that it's not the centrepiece of this exhibition. It's much smaller than I expected, and is tucked away near the end. I nearly walked right past it.
Allow 1-2 hours to go round the exhibition, depending on whether you read all the text that accompanies the displays (there's quite a lot of it). We went around the rest of the museum, too, which took about 5 hours altogether. The cafe is good and reasonably priced by London standards. I'd recommend this exhibition to anyone who's interested in horses and/or the military.
Alan Turing - Life and Legacy
Along with many other anniversaries, 2012 is the centenary of the birth of Alan Turing. The Science Museum in London has an exhibition about his life and work, which I went to see yesterday.
Most people who've heard of Turing will tell you that he cracked the German Enigma cipher during the Second World War. They might tell you something about the Turing Test, which tries to determine whether a computer program is as intelligent as a human. (To date, no program subjected to a Turing Test has been consistently able to fool a human for more than about five minutes.) But to my way of thinking, Turing deserves to be remembered more as the father of computing and computer science. This exhibition addresses both his practical and theoretical work.
The exhibition is organised thematically rather than chronologically: the first thing you come across is almost the last thing Turing worked on, the Pilot ACE computer. (Turing didn't actually build this, but it was based on his designs. It was - briefly - the fastest computer in the world, being clocked at a blistering 1 megahertz.)
There are the inevitable Enigma machines, and a couple of rotors from a bombe, a machine used by the British codebreakers to help determine the daily key settings for Enigma. The latter are apparently originals, not reconstructions, which is surprising, as nearly all of them were destroyed after the war.
I had rather hoped that there might be a page or two of the manuscript or galleys of Turing's landmark 1936 paper, On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungsproblem, but I didn't see any. There is a video of someone talking about it and why it's significant, which is probably more useful for anyone who doesn't have a degree in computer science.
The Entscheidungsproblem ("decision problem") is a question posed by the mathematician David Hilbert (who was German, ironically enough) which essentially asks, within the language of mathematics, can every statement be proven true or false? Turing's paper showed that this was not so, closing off an entire field of mathematical enquiry. But in doing this, he proposed a "universal machine," now known as a Turing machine, which could calculate the answer to any and every mathematical problem that could be solved. The machine I'm using to write this blog post, and the machine you're (probably) using to read it, are essentially Turing machines. The same paper presents a program for a Turing machine that allows it to emulate another Turing machine, thus anticipating the concept of a virtual machine by a good thirty years. (Yes - VMs have been around since the 1960s. They just weren't practical or desirable for most uses until recently.)
The exhibition concludes with three interactive displays that teach basic concepts in programming - decision, looping and... I don't know what the third one was, as it was broken when I visited. I didn't think these were as successful as the rest of the exhibition, as they bear little resemblance to a real computer or real programs, and it took me a few minutes to figure out how each one worked. Perhaps my computer science degree and my career in software development are making me overthink things. Most people will never need to write a real computer program, so it doesn't matter (much) if these displays aren't like the real thing.
Overall, I think the exhibition gives a good account of the man and his work, and would recommend it to anyone who's interested in the Second World War, codebreaking or computing. Admission is free (always a bonus!), and it runs until the end of July 2013.
Most people who've heard of Turing will tell you that he cracked the German Enigma cipher during the Second World War. They might tell you something about the Turing Test, which tries to determine whether a computer program is as intelligent as a human. (To date, no program subjected to a Turing Test has been consistently able to fool a human for more than about five minutes.) But to my way of thinking, Turing deserves to be remembered more as the father of computing and computer science. This exhibition addresses both his practical and theoretical work.
The exhibition is organised thematically rather than chronologically: the first thing you come across is almost the last thing Turing worked on, the Pilot ACE computer. (Turing didn't actually build this, but it was based on his designs. It was - briefly - the fastest computer in the world, being clocked at a blistering 1 megahertz.)
There are the inevitable Enigma machines, and a couple of rotors from a bombe, a machine used by the British codebreakers to help determine the daily key settings for Enigma. The latter are apparently originals, not reconstructions, which is surprising, as nearly all of them were destroyed after the war.
I had rather hoped that there might be a page or two of the manuscript or galleys of Turing's landmark 1936 paper, On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungsproblem, but I didn't see any. There is a video of someone talking about it and why it's significant, which is probably more useful for anyone who doesn't have a degree in computer science.
The Entscheidungsproblem ("decision problem") is a question posed by the mathematician David Hilbert (who was German, ironically enough) which essentially asks, within the language of mathematics, can every statement be proven true or false? Turing's paper showed that this was not so, closing off an entire field of mathematical enquiry. But in doing this, he proposed a "universal machine," now known as a Turing machine, which could calculate the answer to any and every mathematical problem that could be solved. The machine I'm using to write this blog post, and the machine you're (probably) using to read it, are essentially Turing machines. The same paper presents a program for a Turing machine that allows it to emulate another Turing machine, thus anticipating the concept of a virtual machine by a good thirty years. (Yes - VMs have been around since the 1960s. They just weren't practical or desirable for most uses until recently.)
The exhibition concludes with three interactive displays that teach basic concepts in programming - decision, looping and... I don't know what the third one was, as it was broken when I visited. I didn't think these were as successful as the rest of the exhibition, as they bear little resemblance to a real computer or real programs, and it took me a few minutes to figure out how each one worked. Perhaps my computer science degree and my career in software development are making me overthink things. Most people will never need to write a real computer program, so it doesn't matter (much) if these displays aren't like the real thing.
Overall, I think the exhibition gives a good account of the man and his work, and would recommend it to anyone who's interested in the Second World War, codebreaking or computing. Admission is free (always a bonus!), and it runs until the end of July 2013.
Walking with Dinosaurs: The Arena Spectacular
We went to see the stage show of the TV show this evening at the O2 in Greenwich.
I think Breda enjoyed it more than I did, but overall we had a good time. It does what it says on the tin - about 20 life-size puppets of 10 species of dinosaur, close enough to feel their breath on your face. (And yes, you can see steam coming out of some of their nostrils.)
It's aimed more at children than adults - the dinosaurs don't really fight, they just circle round one another and roar a lot (loud enough to shake your seat in some cases). Though seeing as the bigger puppets weigh about a tonne and a half, it's probably not a good idea to have them crashing into one another.
The show is narrated by Huxley, a paleontologist, who displays a masterful command of the facts and figures, and narrowly escapes being eaten or stepped on several times. He's also useful for a sense of scale - in a dark arena, with nothing else from modern life visible, it's easy to forget how huge some of these animals really were. For instance, the Tyrannosaurus rex, officially the star of the show, is the size of a double-decker bus. I say "officially" because there's a juvenile T. rex, merely human-sized, which steals those scenes. It's the only one of the puppets that comes back for a curtain call.
I'd recommend this show to any child who likes dinosaurs, though it may not be suitable for nervous or very young children, as there are some bright flashing lights and a lot of loud noises.
I think Breda enjoyed it more than I did, but overall we had a good time. It does what it says on the tin - about 20 life-size puppets of 10 species of dinosaur, close enough to feel their breath on your face. (And yes, you can see steam coming out of some of their nostrils.)
It's aimed more at children than adults - the dinosaurs don't really fight, they just circle round one another and roar a lot (loud enough to shake your seat in some cases). Though seeing as the bigger puppets weigh about a tonne and a half, it's probably not a good idea to have them crashing into one another.
The show is narrated by Huxley, a paleontologist, who displays a masterful command of the facts and figures, and narrowly escapes being eaten or stepped on several times. He's also useful for a sense of scale - in a dark arena, with nothing else from modern life visible, it's easy to forget how huge some of these animals really were. For instance, the Tyrannosaurus rex, officially the star of the show, is the size of a double-decker bus. I say "officially" because there's a juvenile T. rex, merely human-sized, which steals those scenes. It's the only one of the puppets that comes back for a curtain call.
I'd recommend this show to any child who likes dinosaurs, though it may not be suitable for nervous or very young children, as there are some bright flashing lights and a lot of loud noises.
Visions of the Universe
Yesterday (22 June 2013) we went to see Visions of the Universe, an exhibition of astronomical images at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich. The pictures are mostly photographs, but there are some drawings as well, from the pre-telescope era.
The images have been chosen mainly for visual appeal, with some for historical significance - for instance, Galileo's drawings of the moons of Jupiter, and the first photograph of a heavenly body (our own moon, by John W Draper in 1839). Some will be familiar - the "Pillars of Creation" from the Hubble Space Telescope, and the "Eye of God" image of the Helix Nebula. Others are less well-known, such as the first colour photograph from the surface of Venus, taken by Venera 13, and a photo taken by Edwin Hubble that gave the first proof of the existence of galaxies outside our own.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is a 13-metre screen showing panoramas taken by the three rovers currently operating on Mars (Opportunity, Spirit and Curiosity). The detail in these is stunning, but oddly, apart from the colourless sky and the absence of vegetation, they could've been taken on Earth.
Tickets are priced at about £8, which is reasonable for London, and you should allow an hour, or maybe an hour and a half, to see all of it. The exhibition should appeal to anyone who likes beautiful pictures, not just to astronomy buffs. Visions of the Universe runs until 15 September.
The images have been chosen mainly for visual appeal, with some for historical significance - for instance, Galileo's drawings of the moons of Jupiter, and the first photograph of a heavenly body (our own moon, by John W Draper in 1839). Some will be familiar - the "Pillars of Creation" from the Hubble Space Telescope, and the "Eye of God" image of the Helix Nebula. Others are less well-known, such as the first colour photograph from the surface of Venus, taken by Venera 13, and a photo taken by Edwin Hubble that gave the first proof of the existence of galaxies outside our own.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is a 13-metre screen showing panoramas taken by the three rovers currently operating on Mars (Opportunity, Spirit and Curiosity). The detail in these is stunning, but oddly, apart from the colourless sky and the absence of vegetation, they could've been taken on Earth.
Tickets are priced at about £8, which is reasonable for London, and you should allow an hour, or maybe an hour and a half, to see all of it. The exhibition should appeal to anyone who likes beautiful pictures, not just to astronomy buffs. Visions of the Universe runs until 15 September.
Propaganda: Power and Persuasion
Today I went to an exhibition at the British Library called Propaganda: Power and Persuasion. I would've liked to see it sooner, mainly because it finishes on 17 September 2013, meaning that this blog post won't stay relevant very long.
As you might expect, the exhibition concentrates mainly on the two world wars, but propaganda as a concept goes back at least as far as the ancient Greeks - Alexander the Great had coins minted that identified him with Herakles.
There's a fairly even mix of British, American, German, Soviet and Chinese output. It's almost entirely the work of governments, but there are a few pieces from trade unions (Solidarity in Poland) and wartime resistance movements.
Most propaganda is mass media such as posters, leaflets, films and radio broadcasts, but there are more unusual forms like stamps and board games.
A quote by Aldous Huxley stands near the start of the exhibition - a propagandist "canalises an existing stream" - that is, amplifies existing perceptions and prejudices. In a dry land, Huxley says, he digs for water in vain. It might be interesting for the exhibition to highlight examples of propaganda that failed to achieve the desired intent. (Actually, there was a rather macabre one - a poster that showed a superhero warning children in a former war zone not to play with unexploded munitions had to be withdrawn after kids started going into minefields in the hope of meeting him...)
We think of "propaganda" as being mainly for military or political purposes - there are quite a few Soviet posters criticising the American form of government and way of life, for example. So I had to wonder why there was a video segment about the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympics. Yes, it was promoting Britain, but it wasn't portraying us as being better than any other country. By contrast, a poster from East Germany criticising the 60-odd countries that boycotted the 1980 Olympics in Moscow arguably does count as propaganda.
The word "propaganda" carries connotations of being underhanded - of lying, or of presenting the truth selectively. If you direct propaganda at someone, you want him to do something that benefits you, possibly at his expense. So why is there a section about public health campaigns near the end of the exhibition? I don't think anyone could reasonably argue that eradicating disease or reducing infant mortality is a bad thing. (Admittedly they could lead to overpopulation, but that's better dealt with by reducing the birth rate.)
There's a lot of material packed into this exhibition - possibly too much for the available space, which is fairly small. The gallery was quite crowded, possibly because I went on the only weekday when they stay open into the evening. It probably didn't help that I was wearing my work rucksack, so people kept pushing past me. The lighting is rather uneven - dim to protect fragile artefacts, but too harsh on captions next to them.
Despite my criticisms, I enjoyed the exhibition and found it a good overview of how governments and others persuade people to think and act as they want.
As you might expect, the exhibition concentrates mainly on the two world wars, but propaganda as a concept goes back at least as far as the ancient Greeks - Alexander the Great had coins minted that identified him with Herakles.
There's a fairly even mix of British, American, German, Soviet and Chinese output. It's almost entirely the work of governments, but there are a few pieces from trade unions (Solidarity in Poland) and wartime resistance movements.
Most propaganda is mass media such as posters, leaflets, films and radio broadcasts, but there are more unusual forms like stamps and board games.
A quote by Aldous Huxley stands near the start of the exhibition - a propagandist "canalises an existing stream" - that is, amplifies existing perceptions and prejudices. In a dry land, Huxley says, he digs for water in vain. It might be interesting for the exhibition to highlight examples of propaganda that failed to achieve the desired intent. (Actually, there was a rather macabre one - a poster that showed a superhero warning children in a former war zone not to play with unexploded munitions had to be withdrawn after kids started going into minefields in the hope of meeting him...)
We think of "propaganda" as being mainly for military or political purposes - there are quite a few Soviet posters criticising the American form of government and way of life, for example. So I had to wonder why there was a video segment about the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympics. Yes, it was promoting Britain, but it wasn't portraying us as being better than any other country. By contrast, a poster from East Germany criticising the 60-odd countries that boycotted the 1980 Olympics in Moscow arguably does count as propaganda.
The word "propaganda" carries connotations of being underhanded - of lying, or of presenting the truth selectively. If you direct propaganda at someone, you want him to do something that benefits you, possibly at his expense. So why is there a section about public health campaigns near the end of the exhibition? I don't think anyone could reasonably argue that eradicating disease or reducing infant mortality is a bad thing. (Admittedly they could lead to overpopulation, but that's better dealt with by reducing the birth rate.)
There's a lot of material packed into this exhibition - possibly too much for the available space, which is fairly small. The gallery was quite crowded, possibly because I went on the only weekday when they stay open into the evening. It probably didn't help that I was wearing my work rucksack, so people kept pushing past me. The lighting is rather uneven - dim to protect fragile artefacts, but too harsh on captions next to them.
Despite my criticisms, I enjoyed the exhibition and found it a good overview of how governments and others persuade people to think and act as they want.
Collider (as in Large Hadron)
This is another exhibition that I should've visited sooner, as it closes in a couple of months.
Collider
is a temporary exhibition at the Science Museum in London, all about the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) at CERN. It explores the science, the engineering, and what it's like to actually work at CERN. It concentrates on the second and third of these, as a true understanding of the science is probably beyond most of us.
As physicists have probed deeper and deeper into the structure of matter and energy, on smaller and smaller scales, the experiments have become larger and more expensive. The electron was discovered by two men working in a lab the size of a typical living room. Confirming the existence of the Higgs boson required a machine the size of a city, built and operated by 10,000 people from all over the world, and cost £10 billion. (As a side note, it amazes me that this particle was predicted 50 years ago, long before any instrument existed that could produce or detect it.)
The exhibition is in two parts. The first is about the history of particle physics before the LHC. The second is a reconstruction of parts of the LHC and CERN. It's built in a curving, branching structure, reminiscent of the swirls and circles of the tunnels that house the LHC itself. Watch out for a walk-on from Professor Brian Cox in the introductory video.
There were some objects where it wasn't clear to me whether they were the real thing or scale models. (Everything about the LHC is absurdly large or absurdly small. The two beams of protons that circle inside it before being smashed together have as much energy in total as 173 kilograms of TNT, and yet a cylinder of hydrogen the size of a fire extinguisher can supply the beams for several months. The process of steering the beams to make them hit one another is likened to shooting two knitting needles from opposite sides of the Atlantic and ensuring they meet in the middle.)
Overall I found the exhibition interesting and enjoyable, if a little short considering the price of admission. It's difficult to say what might have been added to it that wouldn't have been padding, though. Collider is open until 5 May 2014. Tickets are £10 for adults and £7 for concessions, which includes an optional £1 donation to the museum.
As physicists have probed deeper and deeper into the structure of matter and energy, on smaller and smaller scales, the experiments have become larger and more expensive. The electron was discovered by two men working in a lab the size of a typical living room. Confirming the existence of the Higgs boson required a machine the size of a city, built and operated by 10,000 people from all over the world, and cost £10 billion. (As a side note, it amazes me that this particle was predicted 50 years ago, long before any instrument existed that could produce or detect it.)
The exhibition is in two parts. The first is about the history of particle physics before the LHC. The second is a reconstruction of parts of the LHC and CERN. It's built in a curving, branching structure, reminiscent of the swirls and circles of the tunnels that house the LHC itself. Watch out for a walk-on from Professor Brian Cox in the introductory video.
There were some objects where it wasn't clear to me whether they were the real thing or scale models. (Everything about the LHC is absurdly large or absurdly small. The two beams of protons that circle inside it before being smashed together have as much energy in total as 173 kilograms of TNT, and yet a cylinder of hydrogen the size of a fire extinguisher can supply the beams for several months. The process of steering the beams to make them hit one another is likened to shooting two knitting needles from opposite sides of the Atlantic and ensuring they meet in the middle.)
Overall I found the exhibition interesting and enjoyable, if a little short considering the price of admission. It's difficult to say what might have been added to it that wouldn't have been padding, though. Collider is open until 5 May 2014. Tickets are £10 for adults and £7 for concessions, which includes an optional £1 donation to the museum.
Vikings at the British Museum
The British Museum is currently hosting its first major exhibition about the Vikings in over 30 years.
After nearly missing some of exhibitions I've blogged about recently, I thought I'd get in nice and early for this one. This was perhaps a mistake, as half of London seemed to have had the same idea, and I could barely move around the first half of the exhibition, which mostly consists of narrow twisting corridors with the exhibits set into niches in the walls. The second half is better in that respect, as it's a large open space with free-standing cases.
The Vikings made little use of writing (their myths and sagas were passed down orally, and not written down until the 12th or 13th century). Most of what we know about their way of life comes from the writings of neighbouring cultures, who were not usually on good terms with them. The exhibition attempts to give a rounded view of them. Yes, they were bloodthirsty raiders who felt justified in taking whatever they wanted from anyone who couldn't stop them. But they were also explorers, traders and poets, who settled down when they couldn't conquer. Despite their reputation as fierce warriors, their weapons, tactics and training on the whole were no better than those of their opponents, and they lost as many battles as they won.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is the remains of a 37-metre longship, the biggest ever found. There isn't much of it left, though, and the archaeologists had to fill in the gaps by comparing it with similar ships of the same period. It's strange to think people crossed oceans in ships like that, and yet I've been on river boats that were bigger.
Many of the artefacts came from graves, and Viking warriors were often buried with their weapons, presumably so they could continue fighting in the afterlife. So I'm not sure what to make of one case of swords that had been bent or broken to frustrate grave robbers. Perhaps, like their owners, they were destroyed only in body, not in spirit.
Allow an hour to go around, or maybe two if you want to wait your turn to look at everything. The exhibition runs until 22 June 2014. The museum says advance booking is essential, and it's quite likely they're right.
After nearly missing some of exhibitions I've blogged about recently, I thought I'd get in nice and early for this one. This was perhaps a mistake, as half of London seemed to have had the same idea, and I could barely move around the first half of the exhibition, which mostly consists of narrow twisting corridors with the exhibits set into niches in the walls. The second half is better in that respect, as it's a large open space with free-standing cases.
The Vikings made little use of writing (their myths and sagas were passed down orally, and not written down until the 12th or 13th century). Most of what we know about their way of life comes from the writings of neighbouring cultures, who were not usually on good terms with them. The exhibition attempts to give a rounded view of them. Yes, they were bloodthirsty raiders who felt justified in taking whatever they wanted from anyone who couldn't stop them. But they were also explorers, traders and poets, who settled down when they couldn't conquer. Despite their reputation as fierce warriors, their weapons, tactics and training on the whole were no better than those of their opponents, and they lost as many battles as they won.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is the remains of a 37-metre longship, the biggest ever found. There isn't much of it left, though, and the archaeologists had to fill in the gaps by comparing it with similar ships of the same period. It's strange to think people crossed oceans in ships like that, and yet I've been on river boats that were bigger.
Many of the artefacts came from graves, and Viking warriors were often buried with their weapons, presumably so they could continue fighting in the afterlife. So I'm not sure what to make of one case of swords that had been bent or broken to frustrate grave robbers. Perhaps, like their owners, they were destroyed only in body, not in spirit.
Allow an hour to go around, or maybe two if you want to wait your turn to look at everything. The exhibition runs until 22 June 2014. The museum says advance booking is essential, and it's quite likely they're right.
Sherlock Holmes at The Museum of London
On Saturday, we went to see
Sherlock Holmes: The Man Who Never Lived and Will Never Die
at the Museum of London.
As the name suggests, it's about the great detective, his assistants and adversaries, in all media from their creation to the present day. It divides fairly neatly into two sections, the first about Holmes in print and on stage (books, magazines and posters), the second about him in film and TV (props and costumes). Between these is a collection of drawings, paintings and photographs of London as it existed in Holmes' time. These became a little repetitive for my liking - there are only so many photos of fog-bound streets you can see before they blur together.
The highlight for me was a short film of Arthur Conan Doyle talking to camera about Holmes and the inspiration for him. Unfortunately, this is tucked into an alcove, where many visitors might miss it, next to manuscripts and notebooks and copies of the Strand Magazine (where many of the stories first appeared). The layout overall is a bit cramped and haphazard. Labels are sometimes difficult to match up with the objects in the cases, as they're not numbered.
I'd recommend the exhibition to fans of Holmes in any of his incarnations, but the annoying layout means this isn't a whole-hearted recommendation.
Allow an hour to an hour and a half to go around. Tickets are about £12 for adults, and the exhibition runs until 12 April 2015.
As the name suggests, it's about the great detective, his assistants and adversaries, in all media from their creation to the present day. It divides fairly neatly into two sections, the first about Holmes in print and on stage (books, magazines and posters), the second about him in film and TV (props and costumes). Between these is a collection of drawings, paintings and photographs of London as it existed in Holmes' time. These became a little repetitive for my liking - there are only so many photos of fog-bound streets you can see before they blur together.
The highlight for me was a short film of Arthur Conan Doyle talking to camera about Holmes and the inspiration for him. Unfortunately, this is tucked into an alcove, where many visitors might miss it, next to manuscripts and notebooks and copies of the Strand Magazine (where many of the stories first appeared). The layout overall is a bit cramped and haphazard. Labels are sometimes difficult to match up with the objects in the cases, as they're not numbered.
I'd recommend the exhibition to fans of Holmes in any of his incarnations, but the annoying layout means this isn't a whole-hearted recommendation.
Allow an hour to an hour and a half to go around. Tickets are about £12 for adults, and the exhibition runs until 12 April 2015.
Butterflies at the Natural History Museum
This is another post in my "exhibitions you might like" series, but I thought I'd try a different approach this time. Every summer, the Natural History Museum in London puts a hothouse in their grounds and stocks it with various exotic species of butterfly. Breda and I went there a couple of weeks ago with the video camera. I spent a rainy afternoon today editing the footage, and this is the result:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v9Tz...
I was impressed with how much detail the camera captured, so you might want to watch this in full-screen 1080p if your computer and connection are up to it.
Tickets are £5.90 for adults. The exhibition runs until 13 September 2015. See here for more information - http://www.nhm.ac.uk/visit/exhibition...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v9Tz...
I was impressed with how much detail the camera captured, so you might want to watch this in full-screen 1080p if your computer and connection are up to it.
Tickets are £5.90 for adults. The exhibition runs until 13 September 2015. See here for more information - http://www.nhm.ac.uk/visit/exhibition...
The Power of Poison
Yesterday, Breda and I ventured away from our usual museum haunts to see The Power of Poison at the Old Truman Brewery. As you might suspect from its name, the Old Truman Brewery was once a brewery, but isn't any more. It now describes itself as "East London's revolutionary arts and media quarter." We didn't realise there was anything besides the exhibition there, and so scooted off to take in the sun by the river, without seeing the rest of the site. Maybe we'll spend a bit longer if we go back.
As the name suggests, the exhibition is all about poison. It divides into two halves, the first about poisonous plants and animals, the second about the use of poisons by people. It presents a lot of information within those subjects, and does so in a way that's easily understandable by a wide range of visitors.
Plants and animals that use poison have to make a trade-off between it and whatever else they might use that energy and matter for. For example, spiders that hunt their prey tend to have much more toxic venom than spiders that spin webs. The web does some of the work of subduing the prey, making it less likely to fight back and injure the spider. Some scorpions have two types of venom - a mild one that causes pain, and a stronger one that kills. Such a scorpion, when cornered by a predator, will first try stinging with the mild venom. If that doesn't persuade the predator to leave it alone, it will use the more extreme option.
Often when one (prey) species in an ecosystem uses poison, you'll find another (predator) species nearby that's partly or wholly immune to that poison. The immunity allows it to eat something that no other species can, meaning it has no competition for food. Of course, this comes at the cost of having to manufacture whatever chemicals make it immune, and carries the risk that if the prey species goes extinct, the predator probably will too.
The human side of the exhibition uses a historical approach, taking in myths, legends and modern fiction, though it generally takes the angle of asking, "Could this really have happened?" The highlight here is a live presentation about the origins of forensic toxicology, specifically the Marsh test, which detects arsenic. Before this test was developed, arsenic, in the form of arsenic trioxide, was a very popular poison, to the point that the French nicknamed it poudre de succession, or "inheritance powder."
The large amount of content and the relatively low ticket price make the exhibition good value for money. The space is much larger than most of the exhibitions I've been to lately - there's plenty of room to stand and read the labels or study the exhibits without feeling that you're blocking people who want to pass you.
My only quibble really was that the standard of presentation left something to be desired. The cloakroom was closed, there's a sign warning of uneven floors, and the lighting levels are sometimes low, even though most of the artefacts aren't rare or valuable. Perhaps most annoying, the sound from various looping videos isn't properly confined to the places where you have a good view of the screen. By the time I got to watch each of them, I'd already heard the soundtracks four or five times.
Overall, I found The Power of Poison enjoyable and informative, and I'll be interested to see what The Old Truman Brewery has to offer next. The exhibition runs until 4th September 2015, and tickets are £9 for adults.
As the name suggests, the exhibition is all about poison. It divides into two halves, the first about poisonous plants and animals, the second about the use of poisons by people. It presents a lot of information within those subjects, and does so in a way that's easily understandable by a wide range of visitors.
Plants and animals that use poison have to make a trade-off between it and whatever else they might use that energy and matter for. For example, spiders that hunt their prey tend to have much more toxic venom than spiders that spin webs. The web does some of the work of subduing the prey, making it less likely to fight back and injure the spider. Some scorpions have two types of venom - a mild one that causes pain, and a stronger one that kills. Such a scorpion, when cornered by a predator, will first try stinging with the mild venom. If that doesn't persuade the predator to leave it alone, it will use the more extreme option.
Often when one (prey) species in an ecosystem uses poison, you'll find another (predator) species nearby that's partly or wholly immune to that poison. The immunity allows it to eat something that no other species can, meaning it has no competition for food. Of course, this comes at the cost of having to manufacture whatever chemicals make it immune, and carries the risk that if the prey species goes extinct, the predator probably will too.
The human side of the exhibition uses a historical approach, taking in myths, legends and modern fiction, though it generally takes the angle of asking, "Could this really have happened?" The highlight here is a live presentation about the origins of forensic toxicology, specifically the Marsh test, which detects arsenic. Before this test was developed, arsenic, in the form of arsenic trioxide, was a very popular poison, to the point that the French nicknamed it poudre de succession, or "inheritance powder."
The large amount of content and the relatively low ticket price make the exhibition good value for money. The space is much larger than most of the exhibitions I've been to lately - there's plenty of room to stand and read the labels or study the exhibits without feeling that you're blocking people who want to pass you.
My only quibble really was that the standard of presentation left something to be desired. The cloakroom was closed, there's a sign warning of uneven floors, and the lighting levels are sometimes low, even though most of the artefacts aren't rare or valuable. Perhaps most annoying, the sound from various looping videos isn't properly confined to the places where you have a good view of the screen. By the time I got to watch each of them, I'd already heard the soundtracks four or five times.
Overall, I found The Power of Poison enjoyable and informative, and I'll be interested to see what The Old Truman Brewery has to offer next. The exhibition runs until 4th September 2015, and tickets are £9 for adults.
