Latest news with #BayeuxMuseum
The Guardian
a day ago
- Politics
- The Guardian
The diplomacy of art: Bayeux tapestry loan shows cultural gifts still matter
This week's masterclass in the renewal of the entente cordiale was based on a genuine desire by two countries to reconnect. But in addition it served as a reminder that diplomacy is not only an art, but art itself has always been an essential tool of diplomacy. So the extended loan of the Bayeux tapestry, exchanged with treasures from Sutton Hoo, is not just a gesture of trust but marks a return to the roots of diplomacy, and its cultural lure. Doubtless security experts will remember the summit's declarations of new nuclear co-operation while pollsters will eye 'the one in, one out' migrant deal to see if it actually turns the political tide in the Channel. But the popular legacy will be the queues forming at the British Museum from September 2026 when the tapestry goes on display, and in Rouen and Caen when the treasures from Sutton Hoo are viewed by the French in what is already being billed as the 'Year of the Normans'. True, some Telegraph readers are already spluttering about the French sending a reminder of their conquest of the Anglo-Saxons, or that Britain is just a convenient place to dump the cloth during the two-year closure of the Bayeux Museum, but the British Museum has the prospect of huge crowds to enjoy. Art and antiques, alongside silk fabrics, animals and inventions, have always been the mainstay of the diplomatic gift, the entry point and sometimes the centre point for any communication. Indeed in academic literature, art has been described as the mute diplomat. The historian of early modern diplomacy Anthony Colantuono argues that artworks, both as gifts and on display, are not peripheral accessories to political action but are in themselves instruments of diplomatic persuasion or seduction. They function as rhetorical devices, which have the potential to 'say that which the [diplomat] is not permitted to say, without uttering a single word'. So established had the diplomatic gift become that by 1071 – a little after William I sent his small boats across the Channel – 'the Book of Gifts and Rarities' was compiled by an official in the Fatimid caliphate detailing five centuries of lavish presents at Islamic diplomatic meetings, weddings and a circumcision feast. It is a catalogue of artistry capable of filling any national museum. The Doge's Palace in Venice is in part a monument to the trade in often spiritual gifts designed to bridge cultures between Safavid Persia and Venetian diplomats. Gifts are not just tokens of esteem, but can have more cynical motives such as acting as permits for slavers and missionaries. The first known mechanical clock to reach Japan was presented by the Jesuit Francis Xavier in the 1550s to Ōuchi Yoshitaka, the daimyō of Yamaguchi in western Japan. In return for being able to practise religion, the Jesuits offered 'a mirror that could make old eyes see afresh' [ie spectacles], an instrument that 'could play all the sounds of the thirteen-stringed koto without plucking any strings' (a harpsichord), 'two mirrors that made one see far-away things very clearly' (possibly a telescope) and 'a sounding bell that did not distinguish between the length of night and day in regulating the hours' (a mechanical clock). Ekaterina Heath, a historian of 19th-century Russia, also points to gifts sometimes not merely being acts of goodwill, but rather a form of 'symbolic violence' intended to influence decision-making. The British envoys, she argues, used these gifts to gain leverage and ensure favourable negotiations on issues such as trade and military alliances. The timing of the gifts coincided with efforts to pressure Russia in matters of trade and war, highlighting the strategic nature of these diplomatic gestures. Consequently, during the period 1795–97, the British government sent a range of gifts to Russia: a Herschel telescope for Empress Catherine II, hundreds of exotic plants from the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew for Grand Duchess Maria Feodorovna, and six horses for Emperor Paul I. The most generous ruler would not just send a work of art, but a celebrated artist, as did Philip IV of Spain when he sent Peter Paul Rubens on a diplomatic mission in 1629 to the court of Charles I of England. Rubens completed the preliminary negotiations for a treaty of peace and friendship between the two countries, and painted three works for the king. But it is the French rather than the Spanish who became the masters of the diplomatic gift when French citizens in 1885 sent the Statue of Liberty, a commemoration of America's independence from England and the abolition of slavery, to New York. It arrived reduced to 350 individual pieces and packed in 214 crates, and became a symbol of safe harbour for millions of migrants. Nearly a century later in 1963, the French pulled off a coup after a long debate about loaning national treasures abroad and sent the Mona Lisa overseas for the first time. Her smile, unflustered by the crowds, came to be seen by 1 million Americans at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But France has also been the victim of the most infamous disaster in diplomatic gifting of modern times. In 2013, a grateful Malian government gave a baby camel to the then French president, François Hollande, during a triumphant visit to Timbuktu after French troops had intervened to weaken Islamist rebels who had seized the north of the country. Hollande left the camel with a local family prior to arranging its transport to Paris, but owing to a miscommunication the family slaughtered the animal and gobbled it up it in a tagine sauce.
The Guardian
a day ago
- Politics
- The Guardian
The diplomacy of art: Bayeux tapestry loan shows cultural gifts still matter
This week's masterclass in the renewal of the entente cordiale was based on a genuine desire by two countries to reconnect. But in addition it served as a reminder that diplomacy is not only an art, but art itself has always been an essential tool of diplomacy. So the extended loan of the Bayeux tapestry, exchanged with treasures from Sutton Hoo, is not just a gesture of trust but marks a return to the roots of diplomacy, and its cultural lure. Doubtless security experts will remember the summit's declarations of new nuclear co-operation while pollsters will eye 'the one in, one out' migrant deal to see if it actually turns the political tide in the Channel. But the popular legacy will be the queues forming at the British Museum from September 2026 when the tapestry goes on display, and in Rouen and Caen when the treasures from Sutton Hoo are viewed by the French in what is already being billed as the 'Year of the Normans'. True, some Telegraph readers are already spluttering about the French sending a reminder of their conquest of the Anglo-Saxons, or that Britain is just a convenient place to dump the cloth during the two-year closure of the Bayeux Museum, but the British Museum has the prospect of huge crowds to enjoy. Art and antiques, alongside silk fabrics, animals and inventions, have always been the mainstay of the diplomatic gift, the entry point and sometimes the centre point for any communication. Indeed in academic literature, art has been described as the mute diplomat. The historian of early modern diplomacy Anthony Colantuono argues that artworks, both as gifts and on display, are not peripheral accessories to political action but are in themselves instruments of diplomatic persuasion or seduction. They function as rhetorical devices, which have the potential to 'say that which the [diplomat] is not permitted to say, without uttering a single word'. So established had the diplomatic gift become that by 1071 – a little after William I sent his small boats across the Channel – 'the Book of Gifts and Rarities' was compiled by an official in the Fatimid caliphate detailing five centuries of lavish presents at Islamic diplomatic meetings, weddings and a circumcision feast. It is a catalogue of artistry capable of filling any national museum. The Doge's Palace in Venice is in part a monument to the trade in often spiritual gifts designed to bridge cultures between Safavid Persia and Venetian diplomats. Gifts are not just tokens of esteem, but can have more cynical motives such as acting as permits for slavers and missionaries. The first known mechanical clock to reach Japan was presented by the Jesuit Francis Xavier in the 1550s to Ōuchi Yoshitaka, the daimyō of Yamaguchi in western Japan. In return for being able to practise religion, the Jesuits offered 'a mirror that could make old eyes see afresh' [ie spectacles], an instrument that 'could play all the sounds of the thirteen-stringed koto without plucking any strings' (a harpsichord), 'two mirrors that made one see far-away things very clearly' (possibly a telescope) and 'a sounding bell that did not distinguish between the length of night and day in regulating the hours' (a mechanical clock). Ekaterina Heath, a historian of 19th-century Russia, also points to gifts sometimes not merely being acts of goodwill, but rather a form of 'symbolic violence' intended to influence decision-making. The British envoys, she argues, used these gifts to gain leverage and ensure favourable negotiations on issues such as trade and military alliances. The timing of the gifts coincided with efforts to pressure Russia in matters of trade and war, highlighting the strategic nature of these diplomatic gestures. Consequently, during the period 1795–97, the British government sent a range of gifts to Russia: a Herschel telescope for Empress Catherine II, hundreds of exotic plants from the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew for Grand Duchess Maria Feodorovna, and six horses for Emperor Paul I. The most generous ruler would not just send a work of art, but a celebrated artist, as did Philip IV of Spain when he sent Peter Paul Rubens on a diplomatic mission in 1629 to the court of Charles I of England. Rubens completed the preliminary negotiations for a treaty of peace and friendship between the two countries, and painted three works for the king. But it is the French rather than the Spanish who became the masters of the diplomatic gift when French citizens in 1885 sent the Statue of Liberty, a commemoration of America's independence from England and the abolition of slavery, to New York. It arrived reduced to 350 individual pieces and packed in 214 crates, and became a symbol of safe harbour for millions of migrants. Nearly a century later in 1963, the French pulled off a coup after a long debate about loaning national treasures abroad and sent the Mona Lisa overseas for the first time. Her smile, unflustered by the crowds, came to be seen by 1 million Americans at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But France has also been the victim of the most infamous disaster in diplomatic gifting of modern times. In 2013, a grateful Malian government gave a baby camel to the then French president, François Hollande, during a triumphant visit to Timbuktu after French troops had intervened to weaken Islamist rebels who had seized the north of the country. Hollande left the camel with a local family prior to arranging its transport to Paris, but owing to a miscommunication the family slaughtered the animal and gobbled it up it in a tagine sauce.
The Star
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Star
France's Bayeux Tapestry to return to Britain after 900 years
The Bayeux Tapestry will be loaned to the British Museum in London from September 2026 to June 2027 in exchange for medieval items from the archaeological treasure of Sutton Hoo. Photo: AFP France will lend Britain the Bayeux Tapestry, allowing the 11th century masterpiece to come back across the Channel for the first time in more than 900 years, in a show of friendship to mark President Emmanuel Macron's state visit. King Charles welcomed Macron for a three-day trip on Tuesday, aimed at celebrating the return of closer ties between London and Paris after Brexit, with the loan of the tapestry a symbol of kinship between the neighbours. Britain will in exchange loan France Anglo-Saxon and Viking treasures, in a deal to be announced by British culture minister Lisa Nandy and her French counterpart Rachida Dati later on Tuesday, a government statement said. While the precise origins of the 70m long Bayeux tapestry are obscure, it is said to have been the work of English embroiderers, whose stitching tells the story of the Norman invasion in 1066, and most famously the arrow which hit England's King Harold in the eye. The Bayeux Tapestry is displayed in this undated handout photo taken at the Bayeux Museum in Bayeux, Normandy, France. Photo: Reuters In the years after William the Conquerer took the English throne, the tapestry was taken to France, where it has remained, displayed at the Bayeux Museum in Normandy since 1983. "The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the most important and unique cultural artefacts in the world, which illustrates the deep ties between Britain and France and has fascinated people across geographies and generations," said British Museum director Nicholas Cullinan. The artwork will be shown at the British Museum from September 2026 to July 2027, the statement said, while museums in Normandy, northern France, will host Britain's Sutton Hoo collection, consisting of metal artworks including helmets, shields and spoons from the seventh century. The French will also borrow Britain's Lewis Chessmen, a collection of chess pieces thought to have been crafted in Norway in the 12th century and found on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland. - Reuters
The Guardian
2 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
‘Momentous occasion': how Bayeux Museum finally said yes to tapestry loan
When, in 2018, Emmanuel Macron proposed the loan of the Bayeux tapestry to Britain, an army of conservationists and experts rose up to explain why the almost-1,000 year old treasure was too fragile to be moved. Antoine Verney, the chief curator of the Bayeux Museum, said the tapestry that depicted the Norman conquest of England in 1066 was in such a bad state he 'couldn't conceive' of it going anywhere. Even slightly moving the embroidered cloth for an inspection, he later said, was 'hair raising' and required a team of 50 verdict on the president's 2018 proposal was echoed by Frédérique Boura, a Normandy cultural official. 'The work is tired, worn and fragile,' she said. 'It cannot be transported.' Fast forward seven years and the mood music is very different. This week, Macron and Keir Starmer signed a landmark loan agreement during the French president's three-day state visit to Britain. Under the deal, the almost 70-metre-long (230ft) and 50cm-high tapestry will travel to the British Museum next year, in exchange for the Anglo-Saxon treasures of the Sutton Hoo ship burial, the Lewis chessmen and other artefacts going to France. The shift in tone may seem stark, but the Bayeux Museum said it had carried out tests – including a dress rehearsal with a model – that persuaded its experts that the tapestry could be sent to the UK without excessive damage. 'In 2018, we did not know enough about the physical condition of the work, which is why the loan had to wait even though we have always believed that it would be possible,' Loïc Jamin, Bayeux's deputy mayor in charge of culture, said. 'All the expertise we have developed and shared with the [French] ministry of culture is now a major contribution to making the loan a reality.' The tapestry, which depicts how William, Duke of Normandy, and his army trounced King Harold II and English forces in the Battle of Hastings, is displayed hanging vertically on rails behind glass in a temperature and humidity-controlled atmosphere. It will be moved by extending the rails and placing it on a structure similar to a foldable screen that can then be closed and packed without putting excessive stress on the cloth and stitching. The tapestry will then be double-crated and taken by lorry and train through the Channel tunnel to London. The Bayeux Museum is scheduled to close at the end of August for a €38m (£33m) renovation which would have necessitated the moving of the tapestry regardless of any deal with Britain. 'Of course there's no such thing as zero risk but we are having to move it anyway as we're working on the new museum where it will eventually be displayed,' a spokesperson said. They added: 'Our scientists have worked out a way to cause the least possible stress. The fact is we will be moving it anyway and to take it to the British Museum just means we're moving it further. It's emotional for the people of Bayeux, but the tapestry was never going to be on display here during the museum work.' The museum in northern France has also designed a structure of tilted panels on which to display the tapestry when it reopens in 2027, easing the pressure on the cloth. It has suggested these could also be loaned to the British Museum for use in what is expected to be a blockbuster exhibition from September 2026 to July 2027. While magnificent, the tapestry is showing its age: in 2020, textile conservationists inspected every centimetre and reportedly found almost 24,200 stains and 10,000 holes. The work is expected to undergo a complete renovation estimated to cost €2m after its return from the UK. The spokesperson added: 'Bayeux has always had strong links with the UK and we're very happy the tapestry we have taken care of for almost 1,000 years is returning for a few months to where it was created at the end of the 11th century. Sign up to This is Europe The most pressing stories and debates for Europeans – from identity to economics to the environment after newsletter promotion 'It's a momentous occasion both sides of the Channel, but it's perfectly reasonable for us to loan the tapestry to the British Museum because of our shared heritage and history. It wouldn't happen with any other country.' Verney said the two museums had enjoyed a 'close relationship' for more than a decade. 'We have already called on the considerable expertise of their conservation team, who have been members of our scientific committee since 2013, on the project for the future Bayeux Museum. This loan is an opportunity to promote the tapestry, and the sharing of resources will improve our knowledge of it, particularly in terms of understanding the context in which it was created,' he said. 'This partnership of historical and scientific expertise will also help to support and nurture the project for the new Bayeux Museum.' The exact provenance of the tapestry is unknown. It was probably commissioned by William's half-brother Bishop Odo of Bayeux in the 1070s to decorate the city's cathedral and was almost certainly sewn by English women. It was moved to its own museum in 1983 and has been there ever since. It features 58 scenes created in four stitches and thread in 10 natural dye colours, including 623 humans, more than 700 animals, 37 buildings and 41 ships and other vessels, plus 93 or 94 male genitalia depending on which British expert is counting. The tapestry has only been moved three times since it came to Bayeux, where it now attracts about 400,000 visitors a year, a quarter of them British. The first time was in the winter of 1803-1804 when Napoleon Bonaparte feared an English invasion and ordered it to be transported to Paris. In the second world war, France's German occupiers first transferred it by van to a repository then requisitioned it and moved it to the Louvre in Paris as allied troops advanced after D-day. One person who has not changed their mind about the loan is Didier Rykner, the founder and the editor in chief of La Tribune de l'art and an outspoken defender of France's heritage. He remains implacably opposed to the tapestry travelling to the UK and has described Macron's decision as 'catastrophic'. Under the headline: 'Why the Bayeux tapestry cannot (and must not) travel', Rykner republished an article from 2018 citing experts saying this would damage it. 'President Macron has once again taken a catastrophic decision for our heritage, deciding alone, against the advice of conservationists and restorers who know the Bayeux tapestry,' he wrote.
Express Tribune
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
Bayeux Tapestry returns to Britain
France will lend Britain the Bayeux Tapestry, allowing the 11th century masterpiece to come back across the Channel for the first time in more than 900 years, in a show of friendship to mark President Emmanuel Macron's state visit. King Charles welcomed Macron for a three-day trip on Tuesday, aimed at celebrating the return of closer ties between London and Paris after Brexit, with the loan of the tapestry a symbol of kinship between the neighbours. Britain will in exchange loan France Anglo-Saxon and Viking treasures, in a deal to be announced by British culture minister Lisa Nandy and her French counterpart Rachida Dati later on Tuesday, a government statement said. While the precise origins of the 70-metre long Bayeux Tapestry are obscure, it is said to have been the work of English embroiderers, whose stitching tells the story of the Norman invasion in 1066, and most famously the arrow which hit England's King Harold in the eye. In the years after William the Conquerer took the English throne, the tapestry was taken to France, where it has remained, displayed at the Bayeux Museum in Normandy since 1983. "The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the most important and unique cultural artefacts in the world, which illustrates the deep ties between Britain and France and has fascinated people across geographies and generations," British Museum director Nicholas Cullinan said. The artwork will be shown at the British Museum from September 2026 to July 2027, the statement said, while museums in Normandy, northern France, will host Britain's Sutton Hoo collection, consisting of metal artworks including helmets, shields and spoons from the seventh century. The French will also borrow Britain's Lewis Chessmen, a collection of chess pieces thought to have been crafted in Norway in the 12th century and found on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland. Reuters
