LONDON — There have been exhibitions of protest art and satire, but the British Museum’s “I object,” running through Jan. 20, tells the history of political anger somewhat differently — by tracing the history of dissent right back, not just to the ’60s, or the French Revolution, but to the ancient Egyptians.
“I wanted the exhibition to be as broad as possible,” Ian Hislop, its curator, said while touring it recently. “I wanted to be able to include every gesture from writing your own name over the king’s on a Babylonian brick, to an intricate Chinese silk screen. I didn’t want to restrict it to placards and badges.”
Mr. Hislop’s curation is a coup for the museum. In Britain, his name is almost a byword for giving the finger to authority. For more than 30 years he’s been editor of Private Eye, Britain’s most prominent satirical magazine, which sells more than 230,000 copies each issue.
But delving into the British Museum’s collections taught even him a few things about protest. “I always assumed that in ancient civilizations there wasn’t any — you dissent, you die,” Mr. Hislop said. “Actually that wasn’t true at all.” Well, he added, people did die, but only if they got caught.
Touring the exhibition, Mr. Hislop and Tom Hockenhull, a curator at the British Museum who collaborated with Mr. Hislop on the show — offered insight into some of their favorite items, including the fake ancient rock that the artist Banksy once hung in the museum. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.
British pennies from 1797 and 1903
IAN HISLOP The first thing Tom said to me was the easiest way to get your message into circulation is to use what the authorities already have: money, coins, bank notes. It’s quick, and it’s fantastically efficient and it’s also pretty safe. You carve “Hang the Pope” into a coin, spend it, and it’s gone.
TOM HOCKENHULL There’s a symbolic gesture as well to defacing a coin of the realm as it’s effectively government property. It’s a bit like graffitiing Parliament.
‘Fascination of Nature’ by Xie Chufang, 1321
HISLOP The most subtle stuff in the exhibition is all Chinese. At every point in its history, the risk of dissent there was much higher. This looks like it’s about how lovely nature is, but actually it’s a series of insects murdering each other. All the scholars interpret this as the artist talking about China’s exploitation by the Mongols.
This goes right through Chinese history. We’ve got a picture of two owls in the show, and when I first saw it, I thought, “How could it possibly be dissent?” But in Mao’s time, you could get into terrific trouble by drawing owls in the wrong way.
Door panels by Ar’owogun of Osí, Nigeria, early 20th century
HISLOP These were shown in the British Empire Exhibition at Wembley in 1924. I suppose they said, “Let’s have stuff from all over the colonies.” So in come these doors, and nobody notices that there’s these figures on motorbikes with pith helmets on them, and they’re actually caricatures of us. They’re colonial administrators. And they’ve put mischief gods sitting on the wheels of the bikes laughing at us too. If you dissent well enough you can smuggle it into the British Empire Exhibition as the prize exhibit.
HISLOP There are a few objects that have been in the British Museum for a long time and for this exhibition been reinterpreted. For years, this has just been called “Brick Inscribed With the Name Nebuchadnezzar.” But one of the curators said to me, “Look, the brick maker, Zabina, has written his name on the top.” And that’s an amazing act of dissent, of saying: “Me — I’m just as important as the king. It’s no sillier for me to have my name on this brick than you.”
Papier-mâché puppet, Mexico, 1980s
HISLOP The Day of the Dead was originally a religious ceremony which allowed the poor to let off some steam, and have a go at everyone who annoyed them. So we have a few puppets: one of Uncle Sam, and one of a factory owner. And the basic message is: “However rich and powerful you are, you will die. You are like us underneath.” You’d only be allowed to do that for one day, you couldn’t come into the factory the next morning with this puppet.
What does it mean when the rulers allow dissent? I think it says they’re cannier. But when something becomes hugely popular, they don’t have a choice but to allow it.
‘A Voluptuary Under The Horrors of Digestion’ by James Gillray, 1792
HISLOP This is George before he became King [George IV] and he was a great target for satirists because he was fat, corpulent. He was almost a metaphor for decadence. So he’s being portrayed as a slob, but worse is the detail: There are unpaid medical bills for what are clearly unsavory diseases and he’s picking his teeth with a fork like a peasant.
There was a fantastic burst of freedom and satire after the French Revolution, of England finding ways of not having a revolution, but still changing the way society worked.
Papyrus, Egypt, 1307-1070 B.C.
HOCKENHULL This is one of the earliest things in the exhibition, and it’s inverting hierarchies, so you’ve got the mouse, that’s the pharaoh, being tended by a cat.
HISLOP Half of what they’re doing is going, “Guys, isn’t this ridiculous?” But the other half is thinking, “Yeah, but things could be like this.” I also like this because we think we invented cat pictures on the internet, and here’s the Egyptians saying, “Yeah, let’s put some cats in.”
Afghan war rugs, 1980s
HISLOP These were made during the war with the Soviets. And they’re fantastic. You’re always going to use what you know to dissent. If you make rugs, that’s what you’ll do.
HOCKENHULL The interesting thing is the tradition evolved into “war on terror” rugs, which are very blatant — the twin towers with the planes flying into them. But they were smaller because they needed to be rolled up so American soldiers could take them home. So that whole tradition became something that wasn’t in any way dissenting, just commercial money making. Very few people can stay dissident forever.
‘Pussy Hat,’ 2017
HISLOP There’s a great pleasure in using clothes for dissent — wearing a badge under your lapel, or wearing garters with a message written on them. The Pussy Hat’s a great example — it’s both visually effective and clever. People wandering around with an anti-Trump placard, yes, I get the sentiment, but you’ve got to work a bit harder than that.
‘Peckham Rock’ by Banksy, 2005
HISLOP This is just a great punch line to the exhibition — although it made me laugh more than it made the British Museum. My version is Banksy came in, put this up and no one spotted it for weeks. Satirists are often very pleased with elaborate jokes, and one of the things this exhibition taught me is just how much you laugh at the really simple ones. They’re not terribly clever, or subtle, but they’re striking.
Source : Nytimes
