Richard Blurton, British Museum

Shiva Nataraja

Fine bronze sculptures of the gods of Hinduism were produced in the Chola period in southern India for use as processional images. These portable representations of the gods could be taken from the temple, dressed and decked with garlands, and then paraded through the streets, enabling all to have a beneficial view of them. Within the temple itself, images of the Hindu deities, such as Vishnu, Shiva and Durga, were venerated in images of stone and these never left the sanctuary. However, bronze images, such as this one of Shiva, Lord of the Dance, could easily be carried on platforms and paraded through the streets by devotees. Processions carrying such images and with many thousands of participants, are still a feature of south Indian temple festivals in towns such as Madurai and Chidambaram.

Lord Shiva is depicted in this famous dance form as the deity at the extremes of time, the lord who crushes ignorance underfoot and who ushers out one cycle of existence and dances in a new one. In Indian lore, time is cyclical and made up of endless iterations and this image shows the god at the end of one cycle and the beginning of the next.

The dance of Shiva at this moment of dissolution and of creation, is conceived of as full of wild movement. The dreadlocks of the god (usually discreetly tied up on top of his head) fly out unchecked around him, providing some indication of the fury of his circular dance – though one foot is, nevertheless held up for his devotees to shelter beneath. The flame he holds in his upper left hand represents the destruction at the end of one cycle, while the sound of the drum in his upper right brings in the new cycle. Not for nothing has this image of the god, full of cosmic symbolism, become the one that people internationally associate with Hinduism.

This was first published in the London Evening Standard on 22 November 2012.

The Shiva Nataraja is on display in Room 33: China, South Asia and Southeast Asia

Michael Willis, British Museum

Inscription from the Firuz Minar at Gaur

From the 1300s, when London was still a small town on the River Thames, the city of Gaur in Bengal was a vibrant metropolis. It enjoyed trade links with Thailand, Ceylon, Africa and the Middle East and on several occasions served as the capital of Bengal. By the late 1500s, however, Gaur began to lose its population due to changes in the course of the River Ganga – the main commercial artery of the day. The mosques and tombs in Gaur fell slowly into ruins and the open land between the monuments was given over to rice cultivation, palm groves and mango trees. So it is today.

This inscription is from one of Gaur’s most famous monuments, the Firuz Minar. This high tower has drawn the attention of many travellers. It was illustrated first in watercolours and prints in the 1700s and photographed from the 1860s.

The inscription is fragmentary, with only the right-hand portion preserved. The other parts disappeared more than two centuries ago and have never been found. The inscription is written in Arabic, beautifully carved in a style of calligraphy unique to Bengal. It gives the titles of an important Bengal Sultan: Sayf al-Din Firuz Shah. He was of Ethiopian descent and ruled as king from 1486 to 1490.

Gaur is located in northern Bengal, straddling the border between Bangladesh and West Bengal. The old mosques and tombs are all made of brick, with many still carrying traces of coloured tiles. Doorframes and inscriptions were carved in stone. As Gaur declined, inscriptions began to fall from their original positions. This led to them being collected and stored for preservation. William Franklin, an officer in the East India Company and a prolific writer on history and archaeology, mentions that he found the Firuz Minar inscription stored in an indigo factory at Gaur. Indigo was an important cash crop in the early colonial period because it was the main source of blue dye before discoveries in the 1840s allowed the colour to be produced chemically. Following the same route as indigo, tea and cotton, the Gaur inscription was moved down river to Calcutta and carried aboard ship to London.

Franklin donated the Gaur inscription to the British Museum in 1826 shortly after his retirement from active service. The Gaur inscription is among the first antiquities from this region to enter the collection.

This was first published in the London Evening Standard on 13 December 2012.

The Inscription from the Firuz Minar at Gaur is on display in Room 34: The Islamic world

Sascha Priewe, British Museum

Conventionally known as ‘moon jars’, dalhangri in Korean, because of their suggestive shape and milky-white glaze, these vessels are considered a high point of Korean ceramic production during the Choson period (1392-1910).

Korean moon jar

This jar in the British Museum is one of only 20 such vessels remaining in the world. It stands 47 cm high and was produced in around 1650-1750. It was made by joining the separately thrown top and bottom sections together, thereby creating a visible joint at the centre. Although there is no firm evidence about the use of moon jars, it has been proposed that food or drink may have been stored in them or that they held flowers.

Moon jars have recently become popular in Korea and abroad. These vessels have inspired a broad movement in contemporary Korean art. Some artists, such as the famous ceramist Park Young-sook (b. 1947), whose modern moon jar is also represented in the British Museum’s collection, have recaptured their aesthetic and technical accomplishment; while others feature moon jars as a motif in paintings, photography and art installations. In this way, moon jars have become to be an icon of Korean art.

During the Choson period, Confucianism became the dominant ideology of the upper class. A moral philosophy, Confucianism governed the conduct of social relationships, and it still remains important today. It also had an impact on Choson-period aesthetics by encouraging a preference for restraint in decoration and likely contributing to the popularisation of plain white ceramics. The moon jar with its imbalance and minor imperfections in the white glaze epitomises this approach towards objects.

The British Museum’s Choson moon jar has a special connection to the United Kingdom. It was acquired by the British potter Bernard Leach (1887-1979) during a trip to Korea in 1935. Leach, who is often regarded as the ‘father of British studio pottery’, took much inspiration from certain East Asian ceramic traditions and incorporated aesthetic sensibilities, such as “nobility, austerity, strength, and warmth” that he identified, into his works. Decidedly anti-industrial, British studio potters strove to re-discover traditional artisan pottery – the ‘peasant pottery’- that Bernard Leach found resonated with many of the East Asian pieces he venerated. It is tempting to think that the British Museum’s moon jar from Korea helped to define the aesthetics of British studio potters.

This was first published in the London Evening Standard on 20 December 2012.

The Korean moon jar is on display in Room 67: Korea

Sona Datta, independent curator

The British Museum continues to collect objects both old and new from across the world to ensure that the collection reflects diverse world cultures. The Museum acquires contemporary objects, particularly those that make reference to or recast past traditions as represented in the Museum’s historic holdings.

I Love Miniatures (2002) is a groundbreaking work in which contemporary Pakistani artist Rashid Rana uses digital photomontage to compose an image of the 17th century Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. The image evokes an amalgamation of well-known portraits of the ruler, best remembered for that great monument to love, the Taj Mahal.

I Love Miniatures by Rashid Rana

The term ‘miniature’ refers not to scale but to technique. Rana constructs his portrait by marshalling thousands of photographs of billboards across modern Lahore creating a pixilation that mirrors the technique of meticulously applying individual dabs of paint in traditional miniature painting. Since, 2002, this method of ‘painting with photographs’ has become Rana’s trademark.

‘Miniature’ also refers to the artist’s training at the National College of Arts in Lahore, which was established under colonial rule in 1875. It was there, in the 1980s, that the Pakistani state instigated a revival of the historic miniature in a bid to endorse the country’s cultural identity by aligning it with its glorious Mughal past. However, the new generation of ‘experimental miniaturists’ like Rana are working to a different agenda.

The border (which in the traditional miniature often comprised a richly painted margin) is signified here by a faux-gilt frame. Rana’s picture is thus framed by the European tradition. The hanging of pictures within frames for mounting on walls was never part of the South Asian tradition. These were designed to be hand-held and enjoyed in intimate surroundings.

As a work, I Love Miniatures is both fragmented and holistic by virtue of its technique and conception. Departing in medium, Rana has concocted the ultimate modern miniature, tantalising and seductive, which forces the viewer to look beyond the surface of the image as it draws us towards the complex layering of life in modern Pakistan.

This was first published in the London Evening Standard on 24 January 2013.

I Love Minatures by Rashid Rana is on display in Room 37

Jessica Harrison-Hall, British Museum

Cloisonné decorated jar

Philanthropic Londoners are supporting the Evening Standard’s campaigns to encourage London primary school children to read more and to find young adults work through apprenticeship schemes. This culture of selfless giving is a vital part of London life. Visitors to the British Museum have benefited greatly from this generosity, which manifests itself in new buildings, refurbished galleries and acquisitions of new objects.

Jimmy Riesco (1877-1964) from Croydon was one such benefactor. He collected Chinese art and bequeathed his collection of Chinese ceramics to his home town, where it is now on display in the Riesco Gallery in the Museum of Croydon. This magnificent cloisonné jar, a testimony to the quality of Chinese craftsmanship, was once in his collection. It is decorated with powerful dragons with snake-like bodies and horns flying through the clouds.

Cloisonné is a method of decorating metal objects with a network of wire cells. Cloisonné wares are particularly time-consuming and labour-intensive to make. Craftsmen sketch a design onto a metal jar using a brush and black ink. Wires are cut out of sheet copper and fixed to the body of the jar, forming cells. The cells are filled with multicoloured opaque glass, which produces a brightly coloured surface. The jar is then fired in a kiln at about 600 degrees centigrade. After firing, the jar cools and the glass shrinks. Any gaps in the design are filled in and the jar is refired. This process is repeated up to four times. Finally the jar is polished and the metal wires gilded.

From two inscriptions around the rim of this jar, we know who commissioned it and where it was made. Zhu Zhanji (1399-1435), the Ming Emperor from 1426 to 1435, commissioned it and eunuchs in the Forbidden City Palace in Beijing supervised its manufacture. Ming Emperors ordered such brightly coloured objects to decorate the vast halls of their palaces. The magnificent dragons were symbolic of the emperor. As you can see from walking around Chinatown today, dragons continue to be a powerful symbol of good luck.

There is only one other jar like this one in the world. It is in Switzerland in the Reitburg Museum, on loan from a private collection. Originally the two jars would probably have been displayed together in the Forbidden City Palace. The British Museum plans to reunite the jars in an exhibition beginning in September 2014, which will show the splendour of early Ming courts and the extraordinary connections that Ming China established with the rest of the world.

This was first published in the London Evening Standard on 11 October 2012.

The Cloisonné decorated jar is on display in Room 33: Asia

Manisha Nene, Assistant Director, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya (CSMVS)

Carved schist figure of Ganesha (1872,0701.59)

Today is the Hindu festival of Ganesha Jayanti, Ganesha’s birthday. It has a special significance for the British Museum this year because we are starting to install the next Room 3, Objects in Focus display about Ganesha. It will bring together a stone sculpture of Ganesha from the British Museum collection with aspects of the contemporary worship of the elephant-headed god in Mumbai. The main annual Ganesha festival, Ganeshchaturthi, is celebrated in August-September, but now is another significant time for worshippers of Ganesha.

A contemporary statue of Ganesha for the display has already arrived from Mumbai

Different traditions celebrate Ganesha Jayanti on different days. It is usually observed in the month of Magha (January-February) on the fourth day of Shukla paksha the bright fortnight or waxing moon in the Hindu caldendar, particularly in the Indian states of Maharashtra and Karnataka. The celebrations of Ganesha Jayanti in the month of Magha are simple, with devotees observing a fast. Before worship, devotees take bath of water mixed with til (sesame seeds) after smearing a paste of the same substance on their body.

Domestic shrines and temples are decorated for the occasion. Special offerings are made to the permanent Ganesha images which are worshipped daily. In some places Ganesha is symbolically worshipped in the form of a cone made of turmeric or cow dung. Food offerings of ladoos (sweet balls) made of til and jaggery (sugar) are offered with great devotion. In some households and temples small images of Ganesha are placed in cradles and worshipped.

Baby Ganesha in a cradle. © CSMVS

The practical reason for making offerings prepared of til and jaggery or applying sesame paste to the body is that when this festival is celebrated it is mid-winter and the body requires high energy supplements. The devotees consider their beloved Ganesha as human being and offer preparations of sesame and sugar to provide energy and keep the body warm.

Unlike the Ganeshchaturthi festival which we will feature in the display, the Ganesha Jayanti festival (Magha shukla Chaturthi) is publically celebrated in a relatively small number of places, where specially-created clay images of Ganesha are worshipped and immersed in the sea or river after 11 or 21 days.

During this month the devotees go on a pilgrimage to one of the many Ganesha temples across India. In Maharashtra there are eight places which are particularly sacred to Ganesha, known as Ashtavinaykas (Ashta means eight and Vinayaka is one of the many names of Ganesha) and the pilgrimage is known as Ashtavinayaka yatra. These are at Morgaon, Theur, Lenyadri, Ozar, Ranjangaon, Siddhatek, Pali and Mahad.

From temple to home: celebrating Ganesha is on display in Room 3, Objects in Focus from 27 February to 25 May 2014.
The Asahi Shimbun Displays

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Noriko Tsuchiya, curator, British Museum

Distant view of Mount Tsukuba, depicting a merchant wearing a dark kimono in a restaurant in Shinagawa (Tokyo). Kitao Masanobu (Santō Kyōden’s pseudonym, 1761–1816). Colour woodblock print (1931,0513,0.12)

I have been working on a new Asahi Shimbun Display Dressed to impress: netsuke and Japanese men’s fashion that introduces the visitor to accessories that made men’s fashion a talking point during the Edo period (1615-1868). Although laws of the ruling samurai class strictly dictated garment choices for townsmen in Edo (now known as Tokyo), these plain garments could be offset with decorative additions, providing that they were worn discreetly or were hidden in the folds of their robes.

As there were no pockets in kimono, Japanese men instead used to hang personal belongings from a sash (obi). Netsuke (pronounced net-ské) were essentially a toggle or stopper to prevent these dangling items (sagemono) from falling to the ground. While fundamentally utilitarian in function, Japanese crafstmen turned them into miniature masterpieces of sculpture, made of materials such as wood, ivory and porcelain, intricately carved into human figures, animals, plants or everyday objects.

Japanese pond turtle. The intricate detail of the animal’s features demonstrates the skill of the artist and his close observation of nature. This netsuke in high quality Japanese silver feels weighty in the wearer’s hand. By Kikugawa, late 1800s, Japan (HG.291)

Goldfish. This ugly, yet adorable, goldfish is known as the lion-head goldfish or ranchū, and is highly regarded in Japan. Keeping goldfish as pets became popular from the 1800s onwards. By Masanao I of Ise (1815–90), Japan. Made of boxwood, inlaid with light and dark horn eyes (F.1074)

Sleeping rat. This ivory rat was carved by Masanao, one of the greatest netsuke artists. It may have been worn by a man born in the year of the rat. This netsuke might also have served as a talisman for attracting prosperity, since rats are associated with Daikoku, one of the Seven Gods of Good Fortune. By Masanao of Kyoto, late 1700s, Japan. Made of ivory. (F.782)

Sleeping rat. By Masanao of Kyoto, late 1700s, Japan. Made of ivory. (F.782)

Because of this utilitarian purpose, netsuke were used by all classes of society. However, merchants notably used netsuke and other items to demonstrate their wealth, status and taste — with men often selecting and coordinating their outfits to fit the weather, season, occasion and their mood.

The exhibition also features a bespoke kimono, a sword, smoking implements and beautifully lacquered medicine- and seal-cases to demonstrate how Japanese men of the past dressed to impress.

Chinese couple playing a flute. This is one of the earliest netsuke in the British Museum made around 1700. The Chinese Tang emperor Xuanzong (AD 685–762) and his beautiful consort Yang Guifei (AD 719–756) sit together playing a flute. Unsigned, about 1700. Japan. Made of ivory. (1945,1017.595)

Chinese boy holding a mask for a lion dance. Porcelain netsuke are less common than those made of ivory or wood. The Chinese lion (shishi) mask is used in a dance known as shishi-mai, performed at festivals throughout Japan, particularly around the New Year. Unsigned, early 1800s, Mikawachi kilns (Saga prefecture), Japan. Made of porcelain. (Franks.1462.+)

Netsuke and traditional Japanese accessories are not simply things of the past. Although such outfits and ornamentation fell out of fashion with the adaptation of Western styles of dress at the beginning of the twentieth century, kimono have recently started to make a comeback in Japan. Perhaps netsuke will be a must-have item for the fashion-conscious male not too soon into the future!

The Asahi Shimbun Displays
Dressed to impress: netsuke and Japanese men’s fashion is in Room 3, from 19 June to 17 August 2014
Supported by The Asahi Shimbun

We will be holding a free public event on Friday 27 June, 17.00-20.00 in Room 3. Experts will be on hand to show how traditional kimono are worn. Feel free to try on some cool kimono and take a #KimonoSelfie to share with the world!

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Malcolm McNeill, project researcher and doctoral candidate, SOAS, University of London

In the book accompanying the BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China, curator Jessica Harrison-Hall’s chapter ‘Courts: palaces, people and objects’ vividly evokes the sumptuous banquets of the Ming elite. A Timurid embassy’s account of a feast held in a meadow on 20 August 1420 treats us to an enticing description of geese, roast fowl, and dried and fresh fruits, all artfully arranged to impress these Central Asian dignitaries. The alfresco fine dining experience was accompanied by courtly pageantry. Beautiful cross-dressed male performers danced for the envoys, while entertainers in papier-mâché animal masks moved like wild beasts. These same Central Asians tell us that the Yongle emperor (reigned 1403–1422), the warrior, dined on a multitude of meats in a single sitting and had a penchant for yellow wine made from grain or rice (huang jiu). This combination of theatrical and culinary delights paints a revealing portrait of early Ming courtly fine dining. The plethora of porcelain and gold vessels in the exhibition show just how lavish the tables of early Ming imperial and princely courts would have been.

Gold ladle and chopsticks, excavated from the tomb of Zhu Zhanji, Prince Zhuang of Liang, and of Lady Wei, at Zhongxiang, Hubei Province. © Hubei Provincial Museum.

We even have two sets of chopsticks, inscribed with the date they were made, their weight, and the name of the imperial workshop in which they were produced, excavated from the tomb of Prince Zhuang of Liang and his wife Lady Wei. Looking at these in the exhibition, I imagined the delicacies these golden chopsticks might have lifted from plate to palate. This left my mouth watering, but also set my mind wondering. How were these delicacies made? What did they smell and taste like? And what would ordinary people, without the wealth of an emperor, have had for dinner?

While researching objects for the Hands On desk outside the exhibition entrance, I found answers to some of these questions. The desk doesn’t just let you touch the wonders of the early Ming, you can smell them too. If you go, do ask for the small box of tea grown at the site of the Ming imperial tea plantations, the Wuyi Mountains in China’s southern Fujian province. These loose leaves of high-grade oolong tea tell a story that can be traced back to the first Ming emperor Hongwu (reigned 1368–1398), the founder. He had a profound impact on the way tea was brewed in 15th-century China. Hailing from lowly stock, he was frequently exasperated by the aristocratic excesses of his courtiers and ministers. This frustration led to an edict issued over the preparation of tea, which forbade brews made from laboriously manufactured bricks of tea powder in favour of infusing tea from dried leaves. While the brick tea popular in the courts of the preceding Song and Yuan dynasties is still drunk in Japan, Hongwu’s loose leaf tea is the brew of choice across China today. Something to bear in mind next time you pop the kettle on for a quick cuppa…

With my mind turned to food and drink, I recently revisited the exhibition in search of more clues about smells and tastes. Looking at the books on display in the section devoted to the arts of peace, my eyes lighted on a collection of bean recipes. These are found in an incredible compendium that aspired to contain all knowledge within the empire, the ‘Great Canon of the Yongle Reign’ (Yongle da dian). Rather than an original piece of writing filled with definitions and explanations, the Yongle da dian was a reference text that pieced together pre-existing knowledge. It was more like a library than an encyclopaedia. The three volumes on show in the exhibition illustrate its breadth of subject matter. On the right you see a selection of feng shui diagrams, on the left a guide to funeral etiquette, and wedged between them is a list of recipes for the humble bean. Reading the text I was staggered by the number of uses for simple pulses: there are recipes for salted beans with minced pork and lamb, beans in oil, beans with salted bamboo shoots, beans from the ‘barbarian’ tribes to the south, and beans of foreign states.

Anonymous, after Xie Huan (1377–1452), ‘Elegant gathering in the Apricot Garden’ (detail); handscroll, ink and colours on silk, 1437. © Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Purchase, The Dillon Fund Gift 1989.

For all the detail in this great compendium, and for all the glamour of golden tableware, it was in the corner of one painting that I found the fullest expression of Ming gastronomy. At the far left of the handscroll ‘Elegant Gathering in the Apricot Garden’, is a scene of elite opulence with servants preparing wine for their master’s guests. We can only imagine the taste and smell. I want to end by sharing with you a translation of a recipe for honey wine from Liu Ji’s (1311–1375) ‘Many Methods for Humble Tasks’. We don’t know exactly what kind of wine was being heated in the Apricot Garden, but Liu Ji’s recipes were in circulation in Ming China when Xie Huan’s painting was made. The painting captures a single moment, but the recipe narrates every stage of a similar process: from the skimming of the bubbling mixture with a chicken feather to the pounding of a pungent paste for fermentation, ending with adjustments of timings to match the rhythms of the seasons in fermenting this sweet, honey wine. I hope that seeing the painting and recipe together gives you a flavour of Ming China.
 

Method for making honey wine
Slowly heat two jin of honey in one dou of water, scraping off what bubbles up with a chicken feather. Continue heating until nothing more bubbles up. Grind cinnamon, pepper, ginger and red bean, and combine these parts together. Place no more than eight qian of this mixture in the vessel, then add no more than four liang of plain flour, and finally add the honey water. Use oiled paper to seal the honey container under seven layers of bamboo. In winter leave it to mature for 27 days, 10 in autumn and spring, and 7 in summer.

The BP exhibition: Ming: 50 years that changed China is at the British Museum until 5 January 2015.
Supported by BP

The exhibition catalogue, The BP exhibition: Ming: 50 years that changed China, edited by Craig Clunas and Jessica Harrison-Hall, is available in paperback and hardback from the British Museum shop online

To learn more about Ming culinary culture, come to award-winning cook and food writer Fuchsia Dunlop’s talk Tastes of Ming China on Friday 14 November.

If you prefer something you can literally sink your teeth into, have a look at the special Ming menu in the Museum’s Great Court Restaurant.

Dr Caroline Campbell, interim head of the Curatorial Department and Curator of Italian Paintings before 1500, National Gallery, London

One of the most remarkable objects in the British Museum’s extraordinary BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China isn’t Chinese at all. It’s a quiet, subdued painting, made by Andrea Mantegna in the late 1490s, probably in the north-eastern Italian city of Mantua. It is in the exhibition because of the delicate blue-and-white porcelain vessel held by the oldest of the three Magi, who kneels bareheaded before the tiny infant Christ, humbly proffering his gift of gold coins.

Andrea Mantegna (c. 1431–1506), Adoration of the Magi, c. 1495–1505, Distemper on linen. © The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (85.PA.417)

Mantegna (1430/1–1506) is one of the most extraordinary talents of the 15th century. He trained as a painter in Padua, the pulsating university town near Venice, at the time one of the most exciting places in Europe to live and to learn. Indeed, Mantegna was such a remarkable artist that Jacopo Bellini, the greatest Venetian painter of his day, arranged a marriage between his daughter Niccolosa and Mantegna so that the Bellini family workshop could benefit from his genius. The marriage endured, but the benefits to the Bellini were short-lived: Mantegna moved to Mantua, where he spent the remainder of his life as court painter to the city’s rulers, the Gonzaga family. Mantegna was one of the first artist-printmakers, and his inventions spread throughout Europe in the form of prints by him and his students.

Andrea Mantegna, Battle of the sea gods, engraving on paper, c. 1470-1500, British Museum (V,1.66)

We know that Mantegna had a life-long passion for antiquities. It’s a feature of much of his surviving work as both a painter and graphic artist, and it evidently permeated his life. One of the most famous anecdotes about the artist – which also happens to be true – concerns a boat trip he made to Lake Garda in 1464, together with the scholars Felice Feliciano and Samuele da Tradate. Not only did they search for and copy old Roman inscriptions, they dressed up as classical Romans and made ancient music as they worked – ‘Emperor Samuele constantly playing the cithara and jubilant’. We can see Mantegna’s response to Greek and Roman forms, such as survivals of antique sculpture and architecture, in an engraving such as the ‘Battle of the Sea Gods’, a vigorous, lively, and very un-classical recreation of ancient sarcophagi and friezes.

Andrea Mantegna, Samson and Delilah, c. 1500 © National Gallery, London (NG1145)

Many of his works also meld classical form with 15th–century function, but perhaps none do this as beautifully as the National Gallery’s Samson and Delilah of around 1500. It has been painted to look like a cameo, a miniature relief carved in the different strata of a precious stone by Roman gem-cutters. Such objects were much admired and collected in Mantegna’s circle.

But Mantegna also recreated lost forms of classical art. Although he had never seen an ancient Roman painting, his highly-coloured pictures ‘The Triumphs of Caesar’ made for Francesco Gonzaga around 1485 (probably his greatest achievement, now in the Royal Collection at Hampton Court) were inspired by written accounts of Julius Caesar’s military celebrations in Rome, as well as surviving Roman antiquities.

Andrea Mantegna, Adoration of the Magi, detail showing Ming bowl filled with gold coins. © The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (85.PA.417)

It is in the context of Mantegna’s interests in antiquity that we should view the blue-and-white porcelain cup in the ‘Adoration of the Magi’. Chinese ‘export ware’ wasn’t directly traded with Europe until the 16th century, but the potteries of Jingdezhen were producing Ming porcelain that made it to Europe in the previous century. The bowl in Mantegna’s painting is decorated with a delicate floral motif which is typical of some bowls and cups produced in the Imperial factory in Jingdezhen, still the symbolic centre of China’s porcelain industry, during the Yongle reign (1403–24). Interestingly, Mantegna’s bowl was not a new object by the time he painted it in the late 15th century.

How had it come to Mantua? Chinese ceramics, highly valued for its rarity and beauty, are recorded in European collections as early as the 14th century. During Mantegna’s lifetime, only a few major gifts of Chinese porcelain were made to European rulers, such as the twenty objects sent by the Sultan of Egypt to Lorenzo de’ Medici, de facto ruler of Florence, in 1487. Several examples are recorded in Mantua – there are four mentioned in the 16th-century inventory of Isabella d’Este’s possessions – but none are for certain the bowl depicted in the ‘Adoration of the Magi’.

What we can be sure of is that these were highly valued objects, often embellished with European metal mounts, and found either in princely collections or ecclesiastical treasuries. These collections were also often home to other luxury objects from outside Europe, from the far closer Eastern Mediterranean, including carpets, fabrics, metalwork and glass. These could also be set into mounts or ‘Europeanised’ in some other way, and many were also celebrated for their connection with the Holy Land. As objects made in the geographical regions where Christ and his disciples had lived, they could have a sacral value. But as some scholars, particularly Alexander Nagel, have argued persuasively, they could also, legitimately, be considered ‘antiquities’, even if they were made in more recent centuries. Their foreignness could make Europeans think of them as objects made in a distant time, which was far removed historically as well as geographically.

Could the same be true of the Ming bowl in Mantegna’s picture? Its very rarity and value manifestly adds dignity and prestige to Mantegna’s elderly Magus, but it also serves to situate the sacred story of the Magi’s discovery of Christ as taking place outside of historical time, as well as to accentuate how exotic he and his companions were. Mantegna’s ‘Adoration of the Magi’ may seem a simple retelling of a familiar story, and a straightforward depiction of a Ming bowl, but, in fact, nothing is quite as it seems.

The BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China is at the British Museum until 5 January 2015.
Supported by BP

The exhibition catalogue The BP exhibition: Ming: 50 years that changed China is available in paperback and hardback from the British Museum shop online

Jin Xian Qiu, Senior Conservator of Chinese Paintings and Carol Weiss, Conservator of Chinese Paintings, British Museum

On entering the BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China, one of the first objects visitors see is a large silk painting depicting an official in front of Beijing’s Forbidden City. This Ming dynasty painting by artist Zhu Bang was conserved especially for the exhibition, using traditional Chinese scroll mounting techniques that have been passed down from master to student since before this 500-year-old painting was even painted.

The British Museum is extraordinarily fortunate to have as its Senior Conservator of Chinese Paintings Mrs Jin Xian Qiu, who originally trained and worked in Shanghai Museum before coming to the British Museum 27 years ago. It is thanks to her expertise that many of the Museum’s Chinese paintings can be displayed today. For this particular project, along with the help of her assistants and colleagues in the Hirayama Studio (part of the British Museum’s Department of Conservation and Scientific Research, working on East Asian paintings) Mrs Qiu was joined by Mr Chu Hao, a Senior Paintings Conservator from Shanghai Museum, who assisted with some of the processes that make up this painstaking treatment.

Anonymous, Portrait of an offical in front of the Beijing imperial palace, hanging scroll, ink and colours on silk, c. 1480-1580 (British Museum 1881,1210,0.87.CH). Before treatment.

Traditionally, East Asian scroll paintings are habitually conserved and cared for over the course of their lifetimes by a process of remounting. The paintings themselves are cleaned and repaired, whilst the surrounding silk borders and accompanying lining papers are replaced with new materials. It is because of this remounting that many silk paintings survive today as hanging scrolls. Because our painting was in poor condition, it was decided to completely remount it.

Before any work could start on the painting, its condition was documented using detailed photography and microscopy. At the same time, appropriate materials had to be prepared and sourced; from dyeing the new first lining paper to exactly the right shade and tone, to finding matching old silks to repair all the missing areas. Mrs Qiu donated a Ming dynasty silk, which matched very closely the colour and weave of the painting, from her own collection (which was passed down to her by her scroll mounting teacher in Shanghai).

Strengthening pigments with nikawa (a traditional East Asian consolidant)

After consolidating any vulnerable pigments, the treatment could begin. The old unsuitable mount was removed from the painting, and in the process of doing so, wider hidden painted edges and more of a seal were revealed. The painting was then ‘washed’ four times in a wet treatment that removes acidity and discolouration from the silk. This process involves carefully sprinkling water onto the surface of the painting before gently removing the excess.

After cleaning, in order to stabilise the silk weave during the upcoming treatments, a temporary facing was applied to the painting’s surface, now nicely flattened by the wet treatment. This facing is made of tong oil paper (a specially treated water-resistant paper) with further layers of xuan paper (a short-fibred paper used in all Chinese scroll mounting and much East Asian calligraphy and painting) applied on top for extra stability.

Mrs Qiu with her two assistants, Valentina Marabini and Carol Weiss, removing the painting’s old backing papers

With the surface protected, the painting could be turned over and stuck to the table face-down to reveal many layers of backing papers. These were removed with tweezers, sometimes in long strips, sometimes fibre by fibre, along with old unsuitable silk repairs. Only now was the real extent of damage to the painting revealed, and while still damp, misaligned silk pieces were carefully realigned to their correct positions.

Mrs Qiu repairing the missing silk areas

Once dry, the process of silk repair could begin, being careful not to waste any of the precious ancient silk resources. Shaped patches of repair silk were adhered to the back of the missing areas and once dry any overlapping edges were carefully pared away. Because the painting was in such bad condition, this process alone took three conservators working for around six weeks.

Mrs Qiu with her assistants and Mr Chu Hao from Shanghai Museum, after the painting has been lined and its facings removed.

It was at this stage that Mr Chu Hao from Shanghai Museum joined the team to help apply the new lining papers. The first lining was dyed Chinese xuan paper, and the second, long-fibred Japanese usumino paper. Mrs Qiu developed this technique, which she thinks provides extra strength, after coming to the British Museum’s Hirayama Studio, where our Chinese and Japanese expert scroll mounters work together – a wonderfully unique situation, and one of its kind here in Europe. After this double-layer of lining was applied to the painting using wheat starch paste, it could be turned over and the temporary facings removed. Then it was applied to a drying board to allow the process of toning the repairs to begin.

Mrs Qiu and Mr Chu Hao retouching the painting on the drying board.

With the conservation aspect of the treatment finished, the mounting work could begin. Mount silks were lined and dyed to best enhance the painting, before being cut into carefully proportioned rectangles that were adhered to the painting’s edges to make an aesthetic border. Slender paper reinforcement strips were applied to the back of the lined painting wherever there was previously a crack or crease, and then the whole mounted painting was given a final backing of two layers of xuan paper with cover silk at the top (to protect the scroll once rolled). This was attached to the drying board for many months, before it was removed and the back burnished, producing a smooth finish ideal for a scroll that will be rolled up. Finally, wooden fittings including the top stave, bottom roller and roller knobs were attached, and the hanging braid and tying ribbon tied on to produce a finished hanging scroll.

Anonymous, Portrait of an offical in front of the Beijing imperial palace, hanging scroll, ink and colours on silk, c. 1480-1580 (British Museum 1881,1210,0.87.CH). After conservation.

From undertaking the first analysis to tying the final ribbon, the entire process took over a year, with other paintings worked on during the long periods of drying. The painting is now stable and can be rolled and unrolled for display without risk of damage; the silk has been cleaned and strengthened by the washing and repair processes and the entire painting has been flattened by its new lining. Details in the painting, previously hidden by stains or creases, are visible once more. A hundred or more years should pass before this painting will need to be remounted again, its journey of conservation and potential to be preserved never-ending while there are still expert scroll mounters to care for these works in the traditional Chinese style.

The BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China is at the British Museum until 5 January 2015.
Supported by BP

The exhibition catalogue, The BP exhibition: Ming: 50 years that changed China, edited by Craig Clunas and Jessica Harrison-Hall, is available in paperback and hardback from the British Museum shop online

Sascha Priewe, curator, and Ellie Miles, Interpretation Officer, British Museum

The Museum is re-opening its refreshed Korea Foundation Gallery (Room 67) thanks to a generous grant from the National Museum of Korea. The project gave us the chance to re-think how we talk about and display things from the Korean peninsula. We took into account the collection’s profile, and how our visitors actually use our permanent gallery spaces. Most visitors make their own paths around the gallery, so we took down walls and moved cases to open up the space for them to browse and make different connections between objects. Bringing in colourful case designs and a new lighting design, we hope that the new gallery will give the objects a stronger visual impact, and encourage closer looking than before.

Samramansang Moon Jar #1 by Kang Ik-joong (b. 1960), USA, 2010–13, mixed media on wood (British Museum 2014,3046.1)

The collection tells an on-going story of Korean visual and material culture that continues to today. To start this new look at the Korean peninsula’s enduring history, we chose contemporary art with a historical focus. Kang Ik-joong (b. 1960) is an artist whose paintings of moon jars from the Joseon period (1392–1910) are particularly well known. His spectacular Samramansang Moon Jar #1 will welcome visitors into the gallery.

One of the parts of the new gallery that we are most excited about is the cases that we have reserved for changing displays. These will allow the gallery to be responsive to the events programme, new acquisitions and visitor interest. When the gallery opens on 16 December the first of these cases will show the work of Nam June Paik (1932–2006),the Korean pioneer of video art. The display of his works is in step with other interest in him, such as Tate Modern’s current exhibition. The other changing cases will allow us to make links with other collections within the Museum, too, and with the Museum’s exhibition programme.

Korean and Chinese objects displayed in Eumorfopoulos’ home, originally published in George Eumorfopoulos, G.E. 7, Chelsea Embankment, December 1934 (1934).

As we’ve been thinking about the re-display, the first ‘mini-exhibition’ will look at the history of the Korean collection at the British Museum, and how the earliest Western collectors of Korean art might have seen Korea. The beginnings of the Korean collections and the collecting of Korean objects began in the 19th century through the likes of the diplomat Thomas Watters (1840-1901), William Gowland (18427–1922), who worked for the Japanese mint, and George Eumorfopoulos (1863–1939), an ‘Oriental’ art collector in London, each representing different types of collectors. Between the three of them they amassed important collections but each with a very different texture.

East Gate – Seoul, colour woodcut by Elizabeth Keith (1887–1956), Britain, c. 1924, (British Museum PD 1928,0310.40)

Another lens through which Korea was seen was through photography and paintings. The display will show books featuring images of Korea published by the collectors’ contemporaries. Depictions of trades, pastimes, boats, architecture, costumes and natural history and so forth provided a lens through which Asia was perceived. And we will also show prints by Europeans and Americans that they made based on their impressions of Korea.

The gallery refreshment has given us the chance to look into the collection from different angles, to explore its strengths and its weaknesses. We have made some new discoveries and reconnected with objects that have been ‘old friends’. But our main task has been to improve the gallery to serve the visitors much more consciously by telling exciting stories and making connections with a part of the world, its past and present, that is still largely unknown.

The Korea Foundation Gallery</a re-opens on 17 December 2014, admission free.
View on the floorplan

Carol Weiss, Conservator of Chinese Paintings and Joanna Kosek, Head of Pictorial Art Section, Conservation and Scientific Research, British Museum

Anyone who has ever visited the Hirayama Conservation Studio in the British Museum has seen what a unique and impressive place it is. For within its venerable walls an old room found new life as the centre for the most delicate and artistic operations: the care, conservation and mounting of uncounted precious scrolls and similar art on paper and silk from East and South Asia.

This autumn the Hirayama Studio comes of age. For twenty-one years now work has been carried out in this studio and every year it is busier and busier. We have no idea how we would have coped had Professor Ikuo Hirayama and the Five Cities Art Dealers Association of Japan not come to our rescue in 1994, and given us our specially-designed studio housed in the Grade I listed building, once home to the Bloomsbury Savings bank.

The Hirayama Studio on its opening 21 years ago, with conservators (from left to right) Sydney Thomson, Jin Xian Qiu, Andrew Thompson, Winnie Fleming (Head of Eastern Pictorial Art) and Ann Evans. Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

Over the last year, four conservators from Japan have been working with us. Sent from the Association for Conservation of National Treasures (Kokuho Shuri Sokoshi Renmei), thanks to the generous sponsorship of the Sumitomo Foundation, the conservators have been working with us on our Collaborative Project for the Conservation of Japanese Paintings in the British Museum, now in its eighth year.

Conservators from the Association for Conservation of National Treasures working in the Hirayama Studio (clockwise from top left): Aya One inpainting; BM textile conservator Anna Harrison discussing treatments with Masanobu Yamazaki and Keisuke Sugiyama; Iwataro-Yasuhiro Oka, Tim Clark (Curator of Japanese Collections at the British Museum) and Makoto Kajitani selecting mount silks; Keisuke and Jun Imada lining a handscroll. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

A recent highlight of the project has been collaborating on remounting the newly-acquired and breathtaking painting by Kitagawa Utamaro (c.1753–1806). Old and beautiful kimono silks used in the 19th-century mount were refurbished, combining modern textile conservation techniques with traditional Japanese scroll-mounting skills (watch out for our next blog for details on this).

At the same time, with generous support from the American Friends of the Shanghai Museum, three scroll-mounting experts from Shanghai Museum visited us. These experts worked with us, assisting and enabling our own Master Chinese scroll-mounter, Jin Xian Qiu, to conserve and remount two huge Chinese silk paintings (both measuring around 3.5 m x 1.5 m).

Visiting scroll-mounters from Shanghai Museum (from left to right): Chu Hao adhering a painting to the drying board with Jin Xian Qiu; Hirayama Studio conservators Mee Jung Kim and Joanna Kosek assisting Huang Ying and Jin Xian Qiu remove a painting’s backing papers; and Shen Hua and Jin Xian Qiu preparing new backing papers. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

Thanks to this collaborative help, several paintings which were previously inaccessible due to their poor condition are now fully conserved and remounted.

This year was also a time of great change for the Hirayama Studio, as our Senior Conservator of Japanese Paintings, Keisuke Sugiyama, who has worked with us for the past eight years, returned to Japan to take up a teaching position. Keisuke is sorely missed. Our consolation is that Kyoko Kusunoki from the National Research Institute for Cultural Properties, Tokyo will join the team next spring, to continue the fantastic tradition of Japanese scroll-mounting that the Studio enjoys.

At the same time we are busily responding to the daily needs of the Museum. This means that every Asian painting, print, album, fan or screen in the Museum galleries (or any of them out on loan round the world) has been carefully checked and probably treated by us. Highlights in the last year have included the wonderful BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China, the newly refurbished Korea Foundation Gallery, The Prince and the Pir Middle-Eastern painted miniatures display, and the soon-to-be-displayed remarkable paintings by contemporary artist Qu Leilei (watch out for a short film on this on the BM YouTube channel in November.

Jin Xian Qiu in conversation with artist Qu Leilei about mounting his recently acquired paintings. Photo: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

Over the year, staff have contributed to a number of major international conferences, especially the International Institute for Conservation (IIC) congress in Hong Kong. We have given talks and welcomed many groups of students, hosted student placements – one an Institute of Conservation (Icon) intern – and continued our own specialist training under the watchful eyes of our scroll-mounting masters. (Remember that there is normally a ten-year training period to qualify as a scroll-mounter in East Asia).

Jin Xian Qiu and Carol Weiss performing the final backing of a Chinese hanging scroll while Camberwell College Conservation students observe; Icon intern Marie Kaladgew presenting Japanese tools and materials to visitors. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

And we are never short of visitors at the Studio: colleagues, VIPs, journalists and cameramen come from all over to visit us and learn more about scroll-mounting work.

This sums up this last momentous year, while the highlights over our first twenty-one years include:

• Work for the Mitsubishi Corporation Japanese Gallery displays (opened in 1990; refurbished in 2006)
• Work for the Korea Foundation Gallery displays (opened in 2000)
• Conservation of a six-fold Toyoharu screen by Mitsuhiro Abe, Andrew Thompson, Sydney Thomson and Sara Burdett, filmed as Secrets of the Screen, narrated by Sir David Attenborough (2001)
• Conservation and mounting of around 100 fragmentary Dunhuang paintings by Jin Xian Qiu and Zhu Pin Fang from Shanghai Museum (2002)
• The remarkable Sumitomo Foundation-funded Collaborative Project for the Conservation of Japanese Paintings in the British Museum which has to date allowed 14 conservators from the Association for Conservation of National Treasures to come and treat with us important paintings, including the imposing Tiger painting by Gan Ku which we have filmed and you can see here and here

Sumitomo Project (clockwise from top left): invited visitors observing the mounting of Gan Ku’s Tiger by Yukihiro Takegami, Takao Miyata and Keisuke Sugiyama; Hisashi Hakamata, Sara Burdett, Eoin Kelly and Keisuke removing the backing papers of a Japanese painting; Dazaifu ceremony celebrating the newly mounted painting Sambo Kojin; and Winnie Fleming observing the finishing of a folding screen. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

• Investigation, expert consultation, treatment and redisplay of the world-famous Admonitions Scroll (watch for the full account in the forthcoming British Museum Technical Research Bulletin (BMTRB)

The Admonitions Scroll (from left to right): photography of the Admonitions Scroll by Valeria Ciocan; discussing treatment options with experts from the Association for Conservation of National Treasures, British Library, China National Silk Museum, Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, National Museum of Korea, Tokyo National Research Institute for Cultural Properties, Peking University, The Beijing Palace Museum, School of Oriental and African Studies, Shanghai Museum, Taipei National Palace Museum; and treating the painting in preparation for its redisplay. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

• Cooperation with the Shanghai Museum’s scroll-mounters
• Re-papering of the Korea Foundation Gallery’s Saranbang and the Mitsubishi Corporation Japanese Gallery Tea House

Mee Jung Kim and Valentina Marabini re-papering the Museum’s Korean saranbang; and Eoin Kelly and Keisuke Sugiyama re-papering the shoji of the Museum’s Japanese tea house. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

• Work for major British Museum exhibitions including The first emperor: China’s terracotta army, Kuniyoshi from the Arthur R. Miller Collection (at the Royal Academy of Arts), the BP exhibition Ming: 50 years that changed China, and Shunga: sex and pleasure in Japanese art
• Training in both Japan and China for our conservators (to learn about Valentina’s year at Shanghai Museum, click here)
• Hosting numerous Masterclass workshops, including those by Jin Xian Qiu, Andrew Thompson, Yukio Yamamoto (sponsored by the Daiwa Anglo-Japan Foundation), Keisuke Sugiyama as well as many experts of the Association for Conservation of National Treasures in Japan, including Yukihiro Takegami, Itawaro-Yasuhiro Oka and Ryoko Kamei (sponsored by the Sumitomo Foundation)
• Countless talks, lectures and publications including ‘The study and conservation of the silk painting Death of the Buddha’ by Keisuke Sugiyama et al. in the BMTRB vol 8

It is never quiet in the Hirayama Studio! So as we celebrate our 21st birthday we look forward with new energy and excitement to all the projects that the coming months and years will bring.

Hirayama Studio staff (from left to right): Valentina Marabini, Keisuke Sugiyama, Jin Xian Qiu, Mee Jung Kim and Carol Weiss. Photos: (c) The Trustees of the British Museum

The Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations, explores manga’s diverse appeal through specially commissioned pieces by three contemporary manga artists. To celebrate the display, the exhibition’s three curators have each interviewed one of the featured manga artists.

In the first interview, Head of Japanese collections Tim Clark interviews Chiba Tetsuya – the leading master of manga in Japan. Born in Tokyo in 1939, Chiba Tetsuya has been creating best-selling works for over 50 years. He specialises in sports manga, in which an individual overcomes obstacles, experiences failure and finds eventual redemption. Chiba Tetsuya has a particular passion for golf and is known for his series Stay Fine (Ashita tenki ni naare), which tells the story of Mukai Taiyō’s journey from humble origins to the Open Championship at St Andrews. For this British Museum display, Chiba Tetsuya created a one-off scene of a young Japanese golfer crouching to contemplate a difficult putt on the green of Fair Isle Lighthouse Keepers golf course – one of the most remote courses in the world.

Chiba Tetsuya (b. 1939), Extract from ‘Stay Fine’ showing Mukai Taiyō in the Open Championship at St Andrews playing against Jack Niklaus. Ink on paper, 1990. (© Chiba Tetsuya)

Tim Clark: How do you create your storylines for your manga?

Chiba Tetsuya: Each work is different. It is always a human storyline intertwined with a particular sport. I go to where the sports are being played and watch the players – be it high school baseball or a Sumo dôjô. With golf there are so many tournaments all over Japan and the world. But the top is of course the British Open at St Andrew’s Old Course. I decided to travel there and play the course to understand it. Based on my personal experience, the Old Course played a pivotal role in Stay Fine.

Tim: What do you take as your inspiration?

Chiba Tetsuya: I read books, watch movies and meet people. I think that in the end individual people are my inspiration. One person whom I am inspired by is Helen Keller.

Tim: Do you play sports? What do sports mean to you?

Chiba Tetsuya: To be honest when I was young I did not have much to do with sports. But at one point I became unwell in my 20s for two years, from working too many long hours on manga, and I ended up staying at home. Then an editor asked me to try to write a baseball manga, which then I knew little about. He took me outside and we started throwing a ball around for a few hours. That evening I slept well for the first time in years and have not looked back since. I will try any sort of sport. It helps not only your body but also importantly your mind and well-being.

Chiba Tetsuya (b. 1939), ‘Fair Isle Lighthouse Keepers Golf Course, Scotland’. Ink and colour on paper, 2015. (© Chiba Tetsuya)

Tim: Does golf have a special place for you?

Chiba Tetsuya: Golf does have a special place for me. While I enjoy all sports, I feel golf is less a sport and more of a game against oneself. It is different from all other sports and so has a special place for me. I worked hard at my golf game and often went to the Arakawa River near my home in a local park to practice. It is hard to create a manga on golf as it is a solitary pursuit but that turned out to be a wonderful challenge for me.

Tim: Can you tell us how you created the protagonist of Stay Fine, Mukai Taiyō? What was your inspiration?

Chiba Tetsuya: There is a high school golf tournament in Japan called Midori Koshien. One team that surprising consistently won the tournaments was a rather average high school in Osaka. I went to see them practice. I realised they had an amazing coach, who, while rather chubby and silent, was inspirational and had the respect of the entire team, leading them to triumph. I based Mukai Taiyō loosely on that person.

The Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations is on display in Room 3 at the British Museum until 15 November 2016. Supported by The Asahi Shimbun.

In the second of our interviews to celebrate The Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations Nicole Rousmaniere, the IFAC Handa Curator of Japanese Arts, interviews the manga artist Hoshino Yukinobu. A specialist in science fiction and mystery manga, Hoshino Yukinobu has recently created a new series Rainman, first published in Big Comic in June 2015. The display features a portrait of Rainman’s protagonist Taki Amamiya, who, through an accident of birth can unintentionally see the dead.

One of Hoshino Yukinobu’s most enduring characters is the crime-fighting anthropologist Professor Munakata, who appeared in his own British Museum adventure in 2011. In this interview Hoshino Yukinobu discusses his creative process, connection to the British Museum and the inspiration behind his new series Rainman.

Nicole Rousmaniere: Can you tell us how you go about creating a manga?

Hoshino Yukinobu: In an ideal world, I would like to create manga which I would like to read. But once I start, this ideal becomes difficult to achieve. It is not an easy task to surprise myself. After having selected many key elements required for the story and managing to begin the series, what I would like to read or draw do not seem to matter. You like it or not, the deadlines approach and surviving each of them pushes me forward.

An illustration from Professor Munakata’s British Museum Adventure.

Nicole: How did you go about creating the story for Professor Munakata’s British Museum Adventure?

Hoshino Yukinobu: This story had to be part of the series which I had been working on so I could not begin with a completely original plot. I made a story based on my great admiration for the British Museum, to introduce the Museum and its history, collections and what goes on behind the scenes, which I myself had seen and learned first hand when I visited in 2008.

Nicole: Will Professor Munakata return to the UK and to the British Museum?

Hoshino Yukinobu: When there is an opportunity someday. Both Professor Munakata and I adore the United Kingdom.

Nicole: What do you feel about manga as an art form being displayed and represented in the British Museum’s collections?

Hoshino Yukinobu: Personally for me, I had never dreamed that my manga would have been displayed and collected at the British Museum. It is an honour beyond any words. I cannot thank those involved with the project enough. I also admire from my heart the British Museum’s spirit to accept Japanese manga in its collection along with other artistic objects from all times and places.

Hoshino Yukinobu (b. 1954), Rainman. Ink on paper, 2015. (© Hoshino Yukinobu)

Nicole: What is your inspiration for Rainman?

Hoshino Yukinobu: For a long time, I have been creating manga with themes ranging from science and space to Japanese history. What I had been interested in even long before then provides the basis of the Rainman. That is to say the issue of human consciousness, the soul, life and death. No one can ignore these issues. It appears to me that the scientific and spiritual worlds are getting very close through quantum physics today. I am hoping to get these two worlds to connect in Rainman.

The Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations is on display in Room 3 at the British Museum until 15 November 2016. Supported by The Asahi Shimbun.

In the final of our three interviews to celebrate the Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations An Van Camp, Curator of Dutch and Flemish drawings and prints, interviews the up-and-coming manga artist Nakamura Hikaru. Her series Saint Onisan follows the adventures of Jesus and Buddha as two young men on their gap year in Japan and has already garnered a cult following.

Combining metaphysical dilemmas with playful humour, this manga sees the two divine beings confronted with the problems of everyday life in suburban Tokyo. Individual episodes see them negotiating the Tokyo Metro during rush hour and exploring how Christmas is celebrated in Japan. In this interview, Nakamura Hikaru talks about her inspiration for the series, the effect digital technology has had on her work, and the possibility of Jesus and Buddha visiting the British Museum.

Nakamura Hikaru (b. 1984), Jesus and Buddha drawing manga. Cover artwork for Saint Oniisan vol. 10. Digital print, hand drawn with colour added on computer, 2014. (© Nakamura Hikaru/Kodansha Ltd)

An Van Camp: Can you tell us how you came up with the concept of a young Buddha and Jesus sharing a flat in Tokyo?

Nakamura Hikaru: I was asked to create a four-page manga using an inspirational figure for Morning 2 in August 2006. I immediately thought about Jesus Christ. But realised it would be best to depict him with another figure having fun in Tokyo. I did not want a disciple, so Buddha came to mind. I believed this manga would be a one off, so I just enjoyed creating it. I chose Tachikawa (a suburb of Tokyo) as I am from a rather rural Shizuoka and my older sister went to university in Tachikawa. For me Tachikawa was the big city.

An: What has been the reaction to your manga in Japan?

Nakamura Hikaru: I have had surprisingly positive reactions to my manga. Most letters are from religious specialists, university professors, Buddhist priests and Christian clergy. I have also had requests to use my manga in universities for teaching purposes. The readership seems quite broad judging from the letters from young adults to people in their sixties.

An: How do you create your story lines? What is your inspiration?

Nakamura Hikaru: I plan everything out seasonally and also through yearly events, such as Christmas or Halloween. I think about what would surprise them about what they saw occurring in Japan and how they would interpret what was occurring around them.

An: Will Buddha and Jesus visit the British Museum?

Nakamura Hikaru: They would of course like to but they have no funds at the moment to do so sadly. Perhaps if they win the lottery…

An: How does technology affect the way that you create your manga?

Nakamura Hikaru: Recently technology has made a big difference in the creation of my manga. For the first eleven volumes I drew each individual sheet and when colour was needed I scanned the sheets to the computer and coloured them by hand. But from volume twelve onward I create the manga entirely on a tablet or computer. This is because the G pen has become much more sensitive and easy to use. There is no smudging and mistakes can be redrawn. The resolution is amazing and even small marks can come out crisply in print. In addition the whole process is in fact much quicker.

The Asahi Shimbun Display Manga now: three generations is on display in Room 3 at the British Museum until 15 November 2016. Supported by The Asahi Shimbun.

After a year in China studying with the conservators at the Shanghai Museum, I arrived back in London in mid-December to start putting into practice at the British Museum the many new skills and techniques I learned.

Examining a painting in the studio

In the last few months of my placement, I undertook a number of projects and had the opportunity to speak about my work at some international events.

One such event was the Forum for Curators of Chinese Art at the Seattle Art Museum in the USA, 27-29 July organised by the JS Lee Foundation. Curators, scientists, archeologists and conservators from both western and eastern museums came together to present, discuss and share their work and I was invited to speak about my time studying the conservation of Chinese heritage paintings in the conservation studio at Shanghai Museum.

In October I gave an introduction to the techniques I used in two conservation cases at the Fine Art Department of the Chinese University of Hong Kong. This gave me the chance to visit the Hong Kong Museum of Art, where I was able to meet fellow conservators and discuss examples from their collections and conservation challenges and methods with them.

The Palace Museum, Taipei, Taiwan

I then went on to the National Palace Museum of Taipei, where I was given the honour of seeing some of their great masterpieces. The Head of Conservation, Mr Hung Sun Xin, allowed me to spend some time at their conservation facility and talked with me about materials and methods they use.

Finally, a visit to the Palace Museum in Beijing concluded my time in China. I have great interest in the northern style of conservation practice and the short exchange with my counterparts in Beijing left a warm impression contrasting with the cold temperature in the city.

The Palace Museum in Beijing, China

Now, back in London, I am beginning to reflect on the opportunity I’ve just had and my gratitude to the JS Lee Foundation for making this year of study – and the extensive knowledge it has brought me – possible.

I’d also like to express my appreciation to Master Zhu Pin Fang, whose time, knowledge and assistance provided me with the chance to develop my technical skills in a unique environment.

Hokusai produced works of astonishing quality right up until his death at the age of 90 and this exhibition will be the first in the UK to focus on Hokusai’s later years, when he produced some of his most famous masterpieces. Starting with the iconic print ‘The Great Wave’, which Hokusai created when he was 70, the exhibition will include outstanding examples of the artist’s work demonstrating his creative breadth and depth during this prolific period.

Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849), Weeping cherry and bullfinch. Colour woodblock, c. 1834. British Museum. On display from 7 July – 13 August.

Hokusai’s later career will be explored thematically as well as chronologically in the exhibition. The subject matter of the works on show will be extraordinarily varied – from dramatic landscapes to intimate domestic scenes and exquisite birds and flowers to supernatural and mythological creatures. The exhibition will also explore Hokusai’s personal beliefs, giving a fascinating insight into the artist’s spiritual and artistic quest in his later years.

Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849), Mirabilis jalapa and grosbeak. Colour woodblock, c.1834. British Museum. On display from 7 July – 13 August.

The exhibition will bring together works from the British Museum’s superb collection of Japanese art with significant loans from Japan, Europe and the USA, making this an incredible opportunity to see these extraordinary works together.

Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849), Amida waterfall, deep beyond the Kiso highway. Colour woodblock, 1833. The Tōyō Bunko, Tokyo. On display from 7 July – 13 August.

There will be a rotation of about half the artworks during the exhibition run for conservation reasons. Due to their light sensitivity, some works can only be displayed for a limited amount of time, to preserve the vivid colours. Each rotation will tell the same story, but you will be able to see a selection of different works in each half. The exhibition will be temporary closed between 3 and 6 July for this rotation.

Watch our behind the scenes Facebook Live broadcast with Exhibition Curator Tim Clark

We have recently witnessed a real surge of interest in the traditional methods of conserving Chinese paintings over in China, and as a result, our Senior Conservator of Chinese Paintings and Master Scroll Mounter, Jin Xian Qiu, has been inundated with publicity requests asking about her work here in the British Museum as well as the amazing story of how she came from Shanghai to London 30 years ago, bringing Chinese scroll mounting techniques to a European institution for the first time. For those Chinese speakers among you, check out this short film that was recently produced by Hua Plus’ UK team all about Qiu Laoshi (this is how we, her students refer to her and means ‘Teacher Qiu’). The video has been incredibly popular on various online platforms and at the time of writing has been viewed around half a million times.  For those not blessed with Chinese linguistic skills, you can see Qiu Laoshi in action with English commentary here on the British Museum YouTube channel as part of the World History Lab series.

Jin Xian Qiu toning repairs on a Ming dynasty silk painting, Eight Immortals by Zhang Chong. 1910,0212,0.503.

As well as these short films, Qiu Laoshi has been busy giving press interviews both here in the UK and in China, where she and our Head of Pictorial Art Conservation, Joanna Kosek, were recently invited to share their expertise at two conferences dedicated to the conservation of Chinese painting and calligraphy. There is currently huge momentum in China to train up the next generation of conservators, with the setting up of training courses and new conservation centres, as well as publicising the traditional techniques that have been previously somewhat invisible, behind the scenes, and, perhaps, closely guarded. The Palace Museum, based in the Forbidden City in Beijing, last year released a popular series of documentaries showing the behind the scenes work carried out by the many conservators there and we particularly enjoyed this one focusing on the work of their scroll mounters (Chinese commentary again).

Joanna Kosek (pictured) and Jin Xian Qiu presenting at The First Annual Conference on Appreciation, Collection and Conservation of the Ancient Calligraphy and Paintings of China Academy of Art, Hangzhou.

Jin Xian Qiu and Joanna Kosek with the organisers and other delegates of the International Academic Conference of Chinese Ancient Paintings’ Identification and Conservation at the Renmin University, Beijing.

The art of the scrollmounter is complex to master, and training takes around 10 years in a traditional apprenticeship set-up. We in the British Museum are incredibly lucky that Qiu Laoshi has trained up a number of conservators, including Valentina Marabini and myself, who have been with Qiu Laoshi for 13 and 6 years respectively. To learn this traditional Eastern craft here within a Western institution is a truly unique opportunity, made only possible by Qiu Laoshi dedicating her career to conserving the British Museum’s amazing and extensive Chinese paintings collection. She often says that her work enables these paintings to be brought back to life, rejuvenated like a tree in springtime, as they would otherwise be in too poor a condition to display. She really is a national treasure for both China and the UK!

Jin Xian Qiu training her two current students: Valentina Marabini (above) and Carol Weiss (below).

In a Western conservation culture that often practices ‘minimal intervention’ to museum objects, there is no denying that the traditional techniques of the Chinese scroll mounter are highly ‘interventive’ – in a full remounting treatment we remove old silk mounts (the borders framing the paintings), wash the paintings, replace old lining papers with new ones, repair missing areas and create new mount surrounds that display the painting beautifully as well as provide a fantastic storage system when rolled up and put away. It is only by this method of remounting paintings every hundred years or so that these paintings can survive for so long and be appreciated by so many generations, but the techniques are of course only safe when practised by a Master mounter such as Qiu Laoshi. Hence the long training process – Qiu Laoshi describes us as ‘surgeons’ for paintings – and the real need to preserve the training techniques themselves in order to preserve these paintings. To learn more, you can read how Valentina supplemented her own scroll mounting training at the Shanghai Museum for a year here, and to get a glimpse at some of the processes involved in a complete remounting treatment, look at this previous blog post.

Jin Xian Qiu preparing lining papers with her two current students Valentina Marabini (right) and Carol Weiss (left).

Recent Chinese scroll mounting projects in the Hirayama Studio have included a beautiful silk handscroll in the style of Han Huang 韓滉, a Ming dynasty silk album leaf painting, and two huge Ming dynasty silk painting hanging scrolls that we worked on in collaboration with scroll mounters from the Shanghai Museum, 八仙 (Eight Immortals) and The Lion and His Keeper. One of these is scheduled to be displayed in the newly renovated The Sir Joseph Hotung Gallery of China and South Asia (re-opening in November 2017), another project which is currently keeping us very busy!

Two Ming dynasty silk paintings before and after treatment: The Lion and his Keeper (left) 2014.3032.1; and Eight Immortals by Zhang Chong (right) 1910,0212,0.503.

Do keep your eyes peeled for upcoming blog posts from the Hirayama Studio, with our Japanese scroll mounting colleagues telling you about the projects they have been working on recently, as well as an exciting live broadcast with our conservators who’ll go behind the scenes in our incredible Studio space.

So wishing you a very happy year of the rooster from all at the Hirayama Studio:

新年快乐 Xīnnián kuàilè!

明けましておめでとうございますAkemashiteomedetōgozaimasu!

새해 복 많이 받으세요 Saehae bog manh-i bad-euseyo!

恭禧發財

These characters are often used to wish people a Happy New Year in Chinese and are pronounced ‘Gong Xi Fa Cai’ (in Mandarin) and ‘Gong Hey Fat Choy’ (in Cantonese).

Chinese New Year is the most important festival in China’s calendar and it lasts for 15 whole days! Instead of presents, special red envelopes filled with money are given to children, and families pay special respect to their ancestors at this time.

Money envelopes used at Chinese New Year.

According to legend, in ancient China, Nian, a man-eating beast from the mountains, could enter houses silently to hurt humans. The people learnt that Nian was sensitive to loud noises and the colour red, so they scared it away with explosions, fireworks and by decorating everywhere in red. These customs led to the first New Year celebrations and continue to this day – fireworks and firecrackers are a large part of Chinese New Year celebrations.

There are lots of superstitions about New Year. Before the New Year, Chinese families give their home a thorough cleaning to sweep away bad luck. Brooms and dustpans are put away on New Year’s Eve so that good luck cannot be swept away. Everyone opens their windows and doors so the good luck of the year can get in. Buying shoes and trousers is considered bad luck as the Cantonese word for shoes sounds like ‘rough’ and the word for trousers sounds like ‘bitter’. Getting a haircut is also thought to be bad luck as the Cantonese word for ‘hair’ sounds like ‘prosperity’, so people worry that by cutting their hair they will make the New Year a bad one.

Demon-Queller Zhong Kui. Colour woodblock print. Printed in Suzhou, China, Qing dynasty, 1700–1800.

This is a print of the ‘demon queller’ Zhong Kui, who has subdued a demon. It was a popular New Year custom to display images of Zhong Kui to protect a household. The branch of blossoming plum appearing from behind his back suggests that this print was made for the lunar New Year since the tree blossoms around this time.

The Chinese zodiac

In Chinese culture, each year is named after one of twelve animals of the traditional zodiac. There are various legends that explain how this came about. One has it that twelve animals came to visit the Buddha when he asked for visitors. As a reward, the Buddha named the years after each animal as they came before him. The Chinese believe that people take on the special qualities of the animal of their birth year. The Chinese calendar also assigns animals to months, days and even times of day though. It’s fairly complicated, so have a look at Wikipedia if you’re interested!

Copper alloy coin-shaped charm. This side shows the 12 zodiac animals and the Chinese character for each. Made in China, probably 19th century,

Here’s a list of the animals and the qualities you might have if you’re born in that year:

You can work out your own animal in this handy chart on Wikipedia. Which animal are you? Do you think you sound like the description?

In 2017, Chinese New Year falls on 28 January when it will be the Year of the Rooster. The Chinese New Year starts in late January or early February because the Chinese calendar is lunisolar – i.e. based on the moon and the sun (not just the sun like the Gregorian calendar).

New Spring; 新春. Colour woodblock print. Henan province, China, early 20th century.

As well as being this year’s animal, as early as the 6th century AD, it was customary in China to paste an image of a rooster on the door on the first day of the lunar New Year to protect the household. The rooster is associated with the sun – at cockcrow all the darkness of evil is thought to disappear. Isn’t that a nice thought to end on?

Kyoko Kusunoki handling Japanese mounting silks. Photo: © CXD.

In March 2016, I started working at the British Museum as a conservator of Japanese paintings. My workplace is the Hirayama Studio which was established in 1994 with support from Professor Ikuo Hirayama. I am happy to say, I felt at ease from the moment I first walked into the studio, thanks to my lovely colleagues… and the tatami-mats!

My main responsibility is overseeing the Sumitomo project to conserve Japanese paintings in the British Museum’s collection. The project is carried out in cooperation with The Association of Conservation for National Treasures (ACNT) of Japan thanks to a grant from the Sumitomo Foundation. In March 2016 I took part in the project planning discussions with ACNT Director Iwataro-Yasuhiro Oka and Tim Clark, Head of the Japanese Collections at the Museum. I then managed all treatment details in the studio. During the project Japanese conservators from ACNT visit the British Museum for short periods of time to advise and carry out scroll mounting treatments together with us at the Hirayama Studio.

In 2016, the treatment of the Standing Courtesan Reading a Letter, a hanging scroll by Kitagawa Utamaro (1753–1806), was completed after three years of treatment. Work also started on the hanging scroll Portrait of young Prince Shotoku Taishi and a pair of six-panel folding screens by Kawamura Bunpo (1779–1821).

The conservation of the Utamaro hanging scroll was an amazing experience to be involved with. The painting is in black ink and colour on paper. The techniques are highly accomplished and they show the courtesan’s lavish kimono, the scarlet under-robe, which has a pattern of linen leaves in white tie-dye, and the black coat in tasteful green and white shades which has a design of flocking plovers. In response to her lavish dress, a beautiful kimono fabric was used as a mounting fabric (chu-beri) in the 19th century. It shows maple leaves and rice-bag patterns in autumn colours enhanced with delicate embroidery. Some of the leaf patterns had been cut and relocated to make the design fit the mount better.

Our treatment of the painting involved many hours of consolidation, cleaning, backing removal, and applying new linings, as well as a very complex and intricate conservation of the kimono silk fabric. My predecessor, Keisuke Sugiyama, first masterminded the project with Tim Clark and Iwataro-Yasuhiro Oka as well as Monique Pullan and Anna Harrison, the Museum’s textile conservators. The ACNT conservators involved in the treatment were Makoto Kajitani, Masanobu Yamazaki, Atsushi Mikkaichi, Aya One, Aya Matoba and Jun Imada. Apart from Keisuke, the Hirayama Studio conservators were Mee Jung Kim-Marandet, Marie Karadgew and myself.

The studio is frequently visited by scholars, students and members of the public, and the Sumitomo Project has offered a great opportunity for me to explain scroll mounting to students and professionals. In addition, the Utamaro painting treatment process has been filmed – watch out for it on the Museum’s social media channels later in 2017.

Working on Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849), Under the wave off Kanagawa (The Great Wave) from Thirty-six views of Mt Fuji. Colour woodblock, c. 1831. Acquired with the assistance of the Art Fund.

At the same time, I have also been responsible for the daily needs of the Museum’s collection of Japanese paintings. All Japanese paintings have to be carefully checked and treated when they are to be shown or sent for loan. In the Museum’s Mitsubishi Corporation Japanese Galleries, the rotation of objects usually takes place four times a year. We are also preparing a special exhibition – Hokusai: beyond the Great Wave will be on show in Room 35 from 25 May – 13 August 2017, so I am also busy working on that.

In Japan I had worked both in the Tokyo National Institute for Cultural Properties and in the private conservation studio, Bunkazaihozon Co., Ltd. which is part of the ACNT. While working there we would receive objects needing restoration from museums, temples and shrines or collectors and would have to return them after the restoration. When returning objects I always felt sad and glad at the same time. But there will always be endless paintings to be cared for and no end of rewards for a conservator.

The Mitsubishi Corporation Japanese Galleries (Rooms 92–94).

In September 2016 a student from the Pantheon-Sorbonne University, Matthias Sotiras, joined us for five months. I have been teaching him about Japanese materials and tools, and traditional mounting techniques, by making models of mounts – training students is an important part of my role. Later this year Matthias will be writing a blog on the process of finishing the Utamaro painting carried out with Aya Matoba.

Introducing Japanese restoration tools and materials to students from SOAS, University of London.