If you have never heard of Wrexham you might wonder why the idea of an
exhibition about rock art in that particular corner of the world might
strike me as bizarre, but I have been turning it over in my mind ever
since I visited it yesterday at the Wrexham County Borough Museum,
thanks to the Illustrious Parent, who lives near Chester, who noticed an
advert in the local newspaper.
It will be much easier to understand why I am so enchanted with Wrexham's Museum if you understand the dubious virtues of poor old
Wrexham itself. Wrexham, in North Wales was a small but hopeful
offspring of the Industrial Revolution. Always overshadowed by its
glamorous and ancient neighbour just over the border, the gorgeous city
of Chester, its main claims to fame are its enormous and wonderful
church, its lower division football club and a small university that
sits on very the fringes of academic life. A struggling town centre was
given a terminally crippling blow by the decision to build a small but
shiny new retail centre on the town's outskirts, near to the vast and
eternally ugly two-storey Tesco. The likes of Next, M&S, Boots,
J.D. Sports and all the other usual suspects abandoned the town centre
and moved into their bright new premises at Eagle's Meadow, leaving
behind them an increasingly decaying ghost town. The void has slowly
been filled by shops operating on the Woolworths model, pound stores,
and cheap and cheerful female clothing outlets; but the super market
halls are becoming quieter by the day, and the place has an air of
something tragically orphaned by the national economy. One road is
Wrexham's eating and drinking mecca, with a several loud and tiresome
drinking holes. At night, the frozen wastes of the former town centre
and the drinking dens become less than salubrious, and the silent,empty
traffic-free areas feel threatening. For me, the biggest symbol of
Wrexham's slow but grizzly decline is the bus station. A vast, grey barn
of a place with partially open sides, it channels freezing cold wind,
and feels more like an abandoned concentration camp than a would-be
welcoming public transport hub. Let's face it, Wrexham is not a cultural
hub and that's why the idea of Wrexham having a rock art exhibition
organized by the British Museum is quite extraordinary at first glance.
But in spite of my dismal portrait it's by no means all bad news. Even
the most dismal cloud has its silver lining and in spite of its
troubles, Wrexham has some real virtues to recommend it. Look up from
the rather sad shop fronts and the architecture above has some wonderful
19th Century and early 20th century work in local sandstone, many with
dates engraved into the stone along with little decorative twirls that
celebrated a much more economically prosperous era. The drinking venues
on the above-mentioned road are all in former banks, each building
bristling with confidence, pride and faith in a grand future. The sheer
variety of architectural experiments is staggering, all of it a
celebration of commercial viability and real self respect and optimism.
There were no doubts here at the turn of the 19th-20th Centuries.
Wrexham must have been an exuberant and life-filled little town. Even
today's architecture offers some remarkable sights - the busy and
successful swimming centre and gym is a strange and ugly affair but it
is unique and has a preservation order on it. Today the town is being
held together by a mulitcultural population including Welsh, English,
Polish and Portuguese residents represented by a fabulous range of small
shops that are truly cosmopolitan - including bijou little Chinese,
Thai, Polish, and Portuguese food stores. There are a couple of
excellent restaurants, and the surrounding residential areas contain
some truly charming neighbourhoods. The streets are scrupulously clean.
And Wrexham FC is important to north Wales - it may not be Premier
League but it has a massive following and an honourable history. And
it's not all about the past and present. As strongly as other areas
resist new prisons being built in their areas, Wrexham fought to have a
new one built close by, a massive opportunity for employment and the
provision of local services. It is welcomed by the town, and a real
indicator of how badly Wrexham wants to come back from the doldrums.
Like any self-respecting Victorian and Edwardian town, Wrexham had a
museum, and still does. Today it is housed in a delectable building
that was originally constructed in 1857, with its castle-like features
reflecting its original function as the barracks for the local Royal
Denbighshire Militia, becoming the Magistrate's Court in 1879, with the
police occupying part of the building. The galleries that we visited
yesterday were once the cells for the drunk and disorderly! It makes a
very fine home for the small 3-gallery Museum, which has undergone a
programme of refurbishment since 1998. I went to visit it a few years
ago when the first of the British Museum travelling exhibitions was held
there - a set of Lower Palaeolithic stone tools, very beautifully
displayed. The rest of the museum was an absolutely standard reflection
of local history museums of its day - lots of odds and ends in poorly
lit cabinets with a low-budget air to it, but rather endearing. Since
its recent refurbishment it is an entirely different proposition.
Taking advantage of some really excellent local history discoveries, it
has been given a modern refit, professionally executed and very
beautifully displayed with bright and colourful information boards,
interactive displays and plenty to engage both adults and children. It
glows with enthusiasm and skill. Displays include the Early Bronze Age
"Brymbo Man" burial, complete with stone cist grave, skeleton, stone
tool and EBA beaker, all beautifully presented. The Roman tile, brick
and pottery works at Holt are given some great coverage, as are the
ruins of the beautiful red sandstone castle on the River Dee at Holt,
raided for its dressed masonry for the construction of a Cheshire
landowner's mansion in the 17th Century. I was blown away by the
transformation from a well-meaning but under-financed and rather dour
little place to this beacon of brightly welcoming displays and exhibits,
now boasting its own exhibition space. It even has a new conservatory
and a lovely little modern cafe serving home made lunches and sticky
cakes (all of which looked lovely) and Lavazza coffee.
And that
brings me on, at long last, to the rock art exhibition. Entitled
"Sacred Spaces; The Rock Art of the San Bushmen in southern Africa."
It uses the resources of the British Museum's Trust for African Rock Art
(TARA) collection (
http://africanrockart.britishmuseum.org/#/).
Showing until the 27th of August, the exhibition consists of back-lit
photographs of some spectacular pieces of rock art from South Africa,
Botswana and Namibia. The captions are short but informative, and
contain the TARA references for anyone who wants to pursue particular
pieces. The photographs were well selected to represent both painted
and etched examples, with subject matters covering hunters, animals and
mythical constructs, some incredibly naturalistic and others highly
stylized. The colours are vibrantly warm and full of African sunshine.
With examples dating to between 30,000 and 100 years ago, it is a trip
back in time to when the savannahs of southern Africa were a symbiosis
between different life forms, and there really is a sense that the
people painting the scenes were communicating something of a spiritual
connection with the natural world in which they lived, and on which they
depended. The Illustrious Parent and I were not alone. There were
three couples there of about my father's age, plus a woman with a
fascinated little girl. We were all chatting quietly about each of the
scenes, discussing particular aspects, pointing out features, enjoying
the chance to become immersed in perceptions and experiences so distant
from our own. There was even a vast blackboard for children to try out
their own rock art experiments, and there was a fabulous and most
improbable giraffe looking back at us from one child's fabulous efforts!
Congratulations to Wrexham for their small but splendid
newly-rejuvenated museum and to the British Museum for their lovely
little exhibition that has been arranged there. Admiration abounds. If
the museum is anything to go by, Wrexham is working very hard indeed to
secure a good future for itself.
Apologies for the poor photos - I
accidentally left the camera at home and all I had was an iPhone that I
have never used for photos before. It was all a bit of an experiment.
I have a long way to go before my photos appear on an Apple advert on
the London Underground!
The Museum's website is at
http://www.wrexham.gov.uk/english/heritage/wrexham_museum.ho
And that
brings me on, at long last, to the rock art exhibition. Entitled
"Sacred Spaces; The Rock Art of the San Bushmen in southern Africa."
It uses the resources of the British Museum's Trust for African Rock Art
(TARA) collection (http://africanrockart.britishmuseum.org/#/).
Showing until the 27th of August, the exhibition consists of back-lit
photographs of some spectacular pieces of rock art from South Africa,
Botswana and Namibia. The captions are short but informative, and
contain the TARA references for anyone who wants to pursue particular
pieces. The photographs were well selected to represent both painted
and etched examples, with subject matters covering hunters, animals and
mythical constructs, some incredibly naturalistic and others highly
stylized. The colours are vibrantly warm and full of African sunshine.
With examples dating to between 30,000 and 100 years ago, it is a trip
back in time to when the savannahs of southern Africa were a symbiosis
between different life forms, and there really is a sense that the
people painting the scenes were communicating something of a spiritual
connection with the natural world in which they lived, and on which they
depended. The Illustrious Parent and I were not alone. There were
three couples there of about my father's age, plus a woman with a
fascinated little girl. We were all chatting quietly about each of the
scenes, discussing particular aspects, pointing out features, enjoying
the chance to become immersed in perceptions and experiences so distant
from our own. There was even a vast blackboard for children to try out
their own rock art experiments, and there was a fabulous and most
improbable giraffe looking back at us from one child's fabulous efforts!
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