Dismantling the Biba Exhibition

Last weekend saw the closing of Barbara Hulanicki: Biba and Beyond, the major fashion design exhibition that was running for several months upstairs at Brighton Museum. So I took advantage of my access badge to go and have a nose around today, when the museum was closed to the public and the exhibition was being dismantled.

It will take a team of staff almost a week of work to completely clear the gallery of the Biba exhibits and leave it a blank slate ready for the next thing. And they’re also using the opportunity to run a rolling photoshoot of some of the clothing items, for a new book.

Removing the descriptive text from the wall – I didn’t ever imagine this would to be done by hand but it’s obvious really.

An interesting point is that the fiscal value (or not) of individual exhibits doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the popularity or scale of an exhibition. So the Biba exhibition has been hugely popular – yet few of the items are of huge value because this is recent commercial fashion and design history, rather than historic fine art (though of course it could become that over time!) and particularly because of the pioneering off-the-shelf disposability of Biba. What I’m trying to say is; it’s odd to see these items that were just elevated to the status of museum exhibits, folded up and put in a box like regular clothing. I can’t really tell if the coat left folded over the edge of this box is a Biba piece, or just someone’s coat. The work is re-normalised. 

[Note from museum staff -- it's the curator's shirt!]

Chris T-T, Blogger in Residence

O human legs

Creative Future, a local charity that works with marginalized and disabled writers ran a creative writing course at Brighton Museum in January. The following piece is one of the many great pieces of writing that came out of the course. More of the participants’ work can be read in the pamphlet Museum Tales on sale now at the Brighton Museum shop, price £5.

Museum Tales, Poems and prose inspired by artefacts in Brighton Museum & Art Gallery

On the way here I saw a man with only one leg.

This sounds like a joke – but it’s not.

I keep seeing people with only one leg and, when I do,

I think of the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore sketch -

a one-legged man auditioning for the role of Tarzan.

But this is not

about a joke.

This is about me thinking about people who have a limb missing, and

whether they should cut their clothes

- in this case trousers -

to reflect the fact

or let the extra -

the unrequired material -

dangle, or flap.

Or fold, and stitch it neatly, hiding the end.

Or make it short

and be proud of the stump,

saying – in effect -

this is who I am.

I’m not deficient in any way,

I’m not trying to fill clothes designed for another type

this is who I am -

exactly that: a one-legged

person

whose strangeness I

sing.

Amanda Geary

August 2012

‘O human legs’ was inspired by a ‘warm up exercise’ on the body.

First Impressions

On my first day in residence I began a grand tour that’ll take more than a week. Shown around by Jemma from the marketing office, we covered the Royal Pavilion itself, Brighton Museum and some departments tucked away in the Old Courthouse. Still to go, in the next few days I’ll get over to Hove, up to the Booth Museum and out to the mysterious Preston Manor.

Tantalising first glimpses of places to explore and people to talk with in coming weeks. Those extraordinary tunnels underneath the Royal Pavilion. The gardener’s hut and the restorer’s workshops. The amazing old organ in the Music Room, on the public tour route. Balconies and secret spaces. The security team’s CCTV room with its wall of cameras, like something out of Homeland. In Brighton Museum, the newly opened café and brand new Chilled to the Bone: Ice Age Sussex exhibition. So many projects still in planning.

Everywhere, even in the most ‘normal’ administrative offices, artifacts spill into staff areas to remind us where we are: the PA to the Head of Museums works each day, stared down by a large stuffed penguin. And people have crazily diverse jobs here; from contract negotiators to bring in the film and TV companies; to graphic designers and press officers; from academic researchers unearthing new history; to conservationists who restore and repair priceless historic artifacts. From community outreach and education experts; to the 24 hour security team.

I sat in on my first management meeting; where senior staff talked nearly three years into the future, wrangling the costs and logistics of a proposed exhibition that won’t appear until late in 2015. My head was spinning.

The most powerful first impression I’m left with is that these extreme contrasts of person, trade, office and studio, work with remarkably, unexpectedly consistent focus. A heady vision unites them. The same few days I began this residency, in west London they have been closing down the BBC’s iconic Television Centre. The other night, watching a bit of that TV coverage and reading friends in that industry chat about it online, I sensed a parallel: a similarity in how a broad church of skills and passions can unite in long-term purpose, particularly in the service of filling up huge iconic architectural and cultural space: the blend of profane and sacred (sublime and ridiculous) exists all in one space.

Not that I’m saying the Royal Pavilion is The Voice or Only Fools And Horses in the same room or anything, but… well, actually I am: the BIBA 60s fashion retrospective is upstairs from a room full of ancient Egypt.

Maybe the romance will wear off. It always does, right? But for now I’ll revel in it. It makes easier some nervy first days trying to remember a hundred new names and job titles. I came away on Friday heartened and optimistic but a bit over-awed by the sheer scale of both task and opportunity. A couple of notes before we dive headlong into this six months of blogging: it should be obvious, I’m nobody’s pr mouthpiece (except my own!) so it goes without saying that the opinions expressed on this blog will be mine, not the ‘official’ view of the Royal Pavilion and Museums. In an emergency, they can edit me if I write something stupid or give away a secret.

But if I love something, it’s really me who loves it. And if I get something wrong, or if you disagree with something I’ve said, please feel very welcome to comment, or to engage me directly by emailing. I’m nice, I promise. chris@christt.com gets me directly.

There is also a new Tumblr blog feed on which I’ll post a brand new photo of something from somewhere around the five sites, each and every day. Here’s the page:

http://royalpavilionandmuseums.tumblr.com

Thursday afternoons
On most Thursdays from 3pm I’ll be in the Brighton Museum Café for a couple of hours, till it closes, writing things up. So if you’re around, please come say hello. In fact I’ll be there more often than that because the café is very nice – and I’ll tweet that I’m around.

And finally, here’s my personal Twitter feed: @christt (please note this contains unrelated opinionated tweeting, adult language and content which some readers may find offensive)

The game is afoot…

Chris T-T, Blogger in Residence