Inside the Museum of London

In May this year an exhibition called Estuary opens at Museum of London Docklands. The exhibition is of works by contemporary artists who have been inspired by the outer reaches of the Thames where the river meets the sea. In advance of Estuary, my colleagues and I decided to explore the region that is the source of inspiration for the art works that will be displayed.

We set off from Fenchurch Street station in the City, a station that looks all the world like it has been plucked from a Victorian child’s toy box, and set down amongst the glittering steel and glass towers of 21st century London. Our objective was to traverse the north bank of the Thames into Essex, and to then walk over one mile out into the waters of the estuary along Southend Pier, the longest pleasure pier in the world.

We were advised by station staff to board a train to Shoeburyness, even though curiously it did not show Southend as a destination on the departure board, and we set off. First Limehouse then West Ham, then Barking, and so eastwards. It was a bitterly cold day and snow lay patchily over the marshlands of Rainham,and the Chafford Hundred as we breached the M25 motorway that rings London. Our guide for the day mentioned that we were following in the footsteps of Daniel Defoe, who had taken a similar tour almost 300 years ago, and I later found this quotation:

I set out, the 3d of April, 1722, going first eastward, and took what I think, I may very honestly call a circuit in the very letter of it; for I went down by the coast of the Thames thro’ the marshes or hundreds, on the south-side… passing Bow-Bridge, where the county of Essex begins…

As the industrial river buildings of Tilbury became more sporadic so the hulk of a derelict factory appeared through our carriage window. This together with a statue is all that remains of the Bata shoe factory at East Tilbury. Built in the modernist style in 1932, this ‘Bataville’ was one of many model company towns complete with housing and entertainments for factory workers that were created by the Czech industrialist, Tomas Bat’a, who encouraged Czech workers to relocate to this part of the estuary. In its heyday 4,000 workers lived, worked and played in Bataville, before it finally closed its doors in 2005.

Gradually the industrialised landscape gave way to wide expanses of mud flats that stretched beyond sight into an evanescent haze of mist and weak sunshine. Leigh-on-Sea hove into view, its little railway station framed by cockle sheds and fishing smacks resting on the mudbanks, the estuary waters, now at low tide, a world away. The paintings of Michael Andrews came to mind, the wash and swirl of muddy brown and shaded blue evoking the expanses of the open estuary. How different a landscape from London was now before us! The mists would prevent us seeing the spookily-named Shivering Sands Maunsell Fort – a series of towers built out into the waters of the estuary in 1943 as an early warning system against invasion and now derelict watch keepers. Stephen Turner’s ‘artistic exploration in isolation’ led him to live in one of the towers for six weeks and the resultant work will be part of Estuary.

And finally we reached Southend Central. After a short walk to the seafront we stood above and in front of the pier, which stretched out before us into the sea. The stiff onshore breeze numbed the face and hands as we gazed down onto an amusement park hibernating for the winter. This was exactly the prospect that Simon Roberts captured in his photograph of Southend Pier from his series Pierdom, his ongoing survey of the pleasure piers of England. Roberts extraordinary image however makes Southend look more Miami than the Thames estuary.

It is a long walk to the end of Southend Pier. We were alone and from time to time paused to look back at the receding shoreline. It was not difficult to imagine how the estuary has been an inspiration for artists as varied as Joseph Turner and Charles Dickens, and how it continues to fascinate artists today.

We completed the journey by returning ‘the Essex way’ – that is on the narrow gauge railway that runs the length of the pier, but not before paying a visit to the new cultural centre that opened in 2012 at the end of the pier. Designed by the Swedish firm White arkitekter, the Centre is a splendid new addition that enables artists and performers to take their work, literally, into the estuary.

I imagine that this place we call estuary, an area that defies the drawing of boundaries but nevertheless is held together by the contra movements of the river and sea, will always escape the grasp of London – and yet be perpetually yoked to it. This vagueness perhaps, is what makes it an appealing muse for artists and a fit subject for the Museum’s exhibition.

So, the exhibition Women In Focus nears its end (17 Feb), yet Dorothy Bohm’s relationship with the museum’s collections has only just started. Almost two years after meeting Dorothy and initiating the exhibition I am thrilled that she has donated the featured prints to us. But it doesn’t stop there. Dorothy’s generosity stretched to offering twenty further prints from her acclaimed back catalogue. I recently had the delight of revisiting Dorothy’s Hampstead home on a cold wintery January day to collect the photographs. A snowy Hampstead features often in our collection so it seemed quite fitting to be going on a photographic mission through it. Trudging out in the snow I was greeted with Dorothy’s usual welcoming warmth. She is such an engaging person, and her photography echoes this.

Before me, on the dining room table, lay a preselected stack of London photographs from the 1960s and 1970s – all handprinted by Dorothy herself, and the majority vintage. Some of her very best photographs from this era feature in institutions around the world from Musee Carnavalet, Paris to Tate Britain. So, I felt very excited to have the opportunity to select down to 20 that would best suit our own collection. How do you go about choosing great photographs from such a strong pool? Or rather, as so often is the case, outwardly reject photographs under the nose of the person who made them and who genuinely has a very clear attachment to each and every one? The selection process is complex, running beyond just picking out favourites (although they inevitably made it). Bearing in mind our existing collection and with thoughts to what would complement and strengthen it, I homed in on the most striking. After much grappling I had my edit of 20. Dorothy had graciously left me to it but, rightly so, cast her eye over the eventual selection to approve or disapprove. You could visibly see her swift, visual mind running over all the images she knows so well, recognising, with sometimes subtle reasoning, why a particular photograph made the cut. She acknowledged the broad array of place and subject that they covered, smiled and exclaimed that she was ‘very happy’. I tried to ignore the pile to the left of discarded ones, knowing there were some gems amongst them. You can’t have it all.

Copyright Dorothy Bohm/Museum of London

Graphically styled photographs of London’s iconic landmarks such as the Monument or Piccadilly sit with less iconic, but more representative of the everyday, Cannon Street Station or Cheapside. Candid shots of Londoners going about their business, such as the Beefeater shown here or the visually impaired men in Oxford Street leap out as strong characterful shots alongside cheeky school boys and market traders.

Copyright Dorothy Bohm/Museum of London

Dorothy’s humanist eye has empowered her to make photographs that really captivate the viewer. The familiarities of London life they touch upon make these photographs a very welcome addition to the Collection and will act as legacy long beyond the exhibition’s life.

Anna Sparham, Curator, Photographs

With panto season firmly upon us, digital curator, Ellie Miles, goes back 200 years to meet some of pantomime’s earliest characters.

Whilst working on the theatrical portraits for collections online, I kept finding the same characters appearing. In the left hand side of this print you can see Harlequin, wearing a mask. To Harlequin’s right, in blue, is the character ‘Pierrot’. Beatrice blogged about Pierrot costumes a couple of years ago. She wrote about Gertie Millar’s Pierrot costume, which Millar wore in 1909, but this print is from 1802, when Pierrot was just one the characters in the Harlequinade.

I started to read about the history of Harlequin and Pierrot. Harlequin was the star of the ‘Harlequinade’, a conventional part of pantomime. Although London had two official theatres with royal patents, it also boasted a range of illegitimate theatrical enterprises. The Harlequinade became popular in London’s illegitimate theatres, where exiled Parisian actors and Italian commedia dell’arte performers delivered comic mimes. Because these performances were mimed they were not considered serious theatre, so they were beyond the jurisdiction of the theatrical patent system.

Pierrot began life as one of the principal characters of the Harlequinade, alongside Harlequin, Columbine (Harlequin’s love interest) and Pantaloon (Columbine’s father.) The four characters delivered comic scenes, often making use of the commedia dell’arte’s batacchio, commonly known as the ‘slapstick’, which you can see Harlequin holding above. These conventional characters would have been immediately recognisable to the audience, and although their exact adventures varied, each had established characteristics. Pierrot was usually Pantaloon’s servant, and in London versions of the harlequinade, was performed as a naïve buffoon.

Pierrot was a simple character in London pantomimes, without the romantic complexity of his continental counterparts. Joseph Grimaldi was the London-born son of an Italian actor, and he revolutionised the role. Grimaldi performed this character as a clown, bringing influences from English comedy to the Pierrot role. It was so successful that it was not long before Pierrot was replaced by Grimaldi’s invention of the role of clown. Even Harlequin was eventually displaced by the popularity of Grimaldi’s clown, which became the central character. The Museum of London has several objects connected with Grimaldi, including some of his costume:

Grimaldi’s creative performances mean he is credited with introducing the modern clown. He was a specialist in physical comedy; particularly tumbling and falling, although this took a toll on his health as he aged. Many of Grimaldi’s innovations outlasted the Harlequinade, and shaped pantomime for years to come: he introduced the first pantomime dame and the tradition of audience participation.

Grimaldi’s clown replaced the Pierrot character in London’s pantomimes, but did not supersede Pierrot’s popularity elsewhere in Europe. Just as Grimaldi’s clown outlived the Harlequinade, so too did Pierrot, whose naivete became a sympathetic quality. By 1909, when Millar wore the costume and Beatrice takes up the story, Pierrot was not just a character in the harlequinade, but appeared in plays, ballets, poetry, fiction, music and even early films. Pierrot became symbolic of the sad clown, living on alongside Grimaldi’s rambunctious comic archetype.

To mark Disability History Month Curator of Oral History & Contemporary Collecting, Sarah Gudgin, revisits the memories she collected during the London 2012 Paralympic Games.

“2012 was a pivotal moment. 2012 was an opportunity to change the way people felt, and the way people looked at the Paralympics. And the wider implications that it would have for people with disabilities all over the UK and all over the world for years to come.” Ade Adapitan

For most people, the excitement surrounding the success of the London 2012 Games might have finished with the closing ceremony of the Paralympic Games. For me, it was just beginning. As part of the Museum of London’s Collecting Strategy for the London 2012 Olympic Games and Paralympic Games, I was involved in collecting material culture, costume, objects and new oral histories for inclusion in the Museum’s Oral History archive.

My interviews took me to new places including the Home Office, the House of Lords (which was a bit like being in a film set!) and the Olympic Village a rare opportunity to see the location where the athletes stayed during the Games – and I spoke to a wide range of people involved in many different aspects of the Games.

In addition to the 12 or so interviews which I carried out, I was also able to interview two former Paralympic medal winners, Dame Tanni Grey Thompson and Ade Adepitan who headed Channel 4’s Paralympics coverage with presenter Clare Balding.

Hearing the personal accounts of interviewees’ unique experiences of working on the Games was a fascinating insight into the organisation behind the scenes. Like most people who attended the Games or visited the Olympic Park, I had been impressed and captivated by the performance and dedication of the sportsmen and women and the spectacle of the Games. However, what I also came to appreciate though carrying out these interviews, was the intense planning, preparation, expertise and management which went into delivering the Games.

Many of the interviewees spoke about memorable sporting moments in the Olympics. However what also came through strongly during the interviews were responses to the Paralympic Games and the elite athletes who took part. Interviewees frequently spoke with great enthusiasm about watching Paralympic sport and about the impact that this had had on their perceptions of disability, and in many cases this was an unexpected response.

“It has been a rollercoaster of emotions, every single day, of every single event, challenging your perceptions, not of disabled people, but to what is possible as a human being. What is possible with a pure determination. It was fantastic, moving, inspiration and humbling.” Melba Palhazy

Some interviewees felt that the impact of the Paralympic Games would challenge the way we see disabled people, and they hoped this would have a lasting impact for future generations.

“We are not talking about people who are ill here, but people who’ve got phenomenal potential, who can contribute to society. The fact that they haven’t got a leg, or they sit in a wheelchair, or they are blind, does not mean that they are any less capable of contributing in their way to society. And that’s the power of the Paralympics”. Tony Sainsbury

Tim Jones describes the reaction of school children to meeting Paralympic athlete Richard Whitehead who has prosthetic legs. “It gave us a taste for how the public was going to react to the Paralympics and in particular how the younger generation was going to react to it, and they were going ‘Wow! We want to watch this!’”

With this years Disability History Month in mind, I returned to the Museum’s collections. It was challenging to find positive representations of disability without reinforcing negative perceptions, connected to the history of the freak-show, or viewing disability in coldly medical terms. Many objects or images collected were connected to war injury, asylum history, or viewed disability through the prism of philanthropy. Selected objects from the Museum’s collections relating to disability can be seen on the Reassessing what we collect website.

More work is needed in museums to develop new ways of representing the lives and experiences of disabled people. However through the new collecting which has taken place as part of the London 2012 Olympic Games and Paralympic Games project, we have, in a small way, been able to redress the balance. The objects, images, costume, ephemera and oral histories collected during the Games reflect the subject of disability more positively. These capture a snapshot of opinion informed and influenced by elite sport performance. The Olympics and Paralympics have created an opportunity to explore other ways of looking at difference, allowing us to ask difficult and searching questions, and perhaps to challenge forms of prejudice.

This week Project Assistant Anna Elson posts her final blog on digitising the Museum’s collection of Henry Grant photographs.

Well that’s it – almost 1,000 photographs have been uploaded to the Collections Online and I have come to the end of my work on the Henry Grant collection.

Henry Grant was a freelance photographer working exclusively in black and white. Employed by a news agency on Fleet Street he photographed political events for the newspapers but also recorded scenes which he happened upon on his way to assignments. These are an eclectic mix of pictures including the sights of London, children playing and city workers gossiping. Most are informal and spontaneous. Grant’s wife Rose was a journalist and in the 1960s and 70s they worked together specialising in education so many of his photographs feature schools, classrooms, teachers and pupils.

It’s been a fantastic opportunity to look through, sort, photograph and digitise some of the thousands of negatives which we hold and to get them online for people to see. I have posted some of my favourite ones below.

This photograph of an early motor car is stranger than it first appears! Something didn’t look quite right and the caption scribbled on the contacts sheet ‘fixing the engine’ just didn’t give enough information. On closer inspection it’s actually a man dressed in a women’s costume who is fine tuning the engine – the boots and trousers gave the game away! This gentleman is taking part in a rally or event of some kind, although the car was never registered for the London to Brighton rally it must have been a similar convention. After some detective work I discovered that this car, a 1906 De Dion Bouton 8hp, is still in existence today… it would be amazing if the owner saw this photograph and could provide us with more information!

I love this photograph. Taken on a station platform at Kings Cross the nun’s white headdress contrasts with the dark steam train behind. These cornettes were only worn by nun’s from the Roman Catholic order of the Daughters of Charity and it made them instantly recognisable. The cornette was heavy and hot and in 1964 the decision was made to disregard them. With her umbrella and suitcase this nun is obviously going on a journey but to where and why? This photograph was taken without her knowledge and is a fantastic example of the spontaneity in Grant’s photography.

This photograph depicts a scene which 21st century commuters will instantly recognise. Taken in 1973 it shows passengers taking the steps down to Oxford Circus tube station from the corner of Oxford Street and Regents Street. This scene is very similar to today’s rush hour and captures the fast pace of the queue and the hustle and bustle of people’s tube journeys. It’s always interesting to look at fashion in old photographs and this one is no exception – hair is worn longer than today for both men and women and there are examples of formal suits and hats as well as fashionable outfits worn by the young generation.

This is a great photograph of a toddler with two tiger cubs at London Zoo. Taken in 1951 it depicts two of a set of three tiger cubs born that year to great excitement by the British public. They were only the second litter to survive birth at the zoo and it was a great disappointment that the tigress Memsahib abandoned her cubs shortly after. The cubs had to be hand reared and were introduced to a Welsh collie who acted as a mother to them, even feeding them. Sadly it was discovered that the cubs were suffering from a calcium deficiency and all three died that same year. Having visited the zoo I know that no toddler would be able to get that close to tiger cubs these days and from Grant’s photograph of a snarling, snapping tiger cub you can see why.

This photograph of a boy feeding pigeons in Trafalgar Square is wonderful and reminds me of sightseeing trips into London when I was a child. The mixture of fear and excitement on his face is fantastic and always makes me smile. The photograph was taken in November 1954 when Trafalgar Square was renowned for the large numbers of pigeons and feeding them was a popular activity. The birds (and their droppings) caused much damage to the buildings around the square and cleaning up after them costs thousands of pounds every year so this practice was banned in 2003.

So Henry Grant has been completed, but where to next…? Well, in quite a change of direction, my next project is to write about the collection of toys from the shop in the Museum’s Victorian Walk. Researching children’s toys will be an interesting change from black and white photographs… although I will miss those pigeons!

A year on from beginning life as a Project Assistant for Collections Online, Verity Anthony shares the range of work that she has been involved with over the last 12 months.

When I started at the Museum my primary responsibilities were the digitisation of the Museum’s Roman samian ware and its collection of 17th century trade tokens. This hasn’t stopped me dabbling my toes in to other archaeological collections though…

After a stint working with the trade tokens, I then had the opportunity to help supervise the photography of some of the Museum’s medieval pilgrim souvenirs.

Pilgrim badges were purchased by pilgrims as souvenirs of shrines they had visited. The Museum holds a collection of over 850 pilgrim souvenirs, which are currently being prepared for publication on Collections Online by curator Meriel Jeater.

In supervising the photography of this collection, I was able to handle and study a wide assortment of badges of differing size and levels of preservation, which represented a range of saints and their shrines.

Most recently the scope of my work has involved working with gallery objects – specifically those displayed in the Museum’s War, Plague and Fire gallery.

As part of Collections Online the objects had to be removed from display so that they could be photographed, and measured where necessary, for the project. As the Museum opens to the public at 10am, this meant we had to be on the galleries early to cause as little disruption as possible. The variety of material on display is huge, from pill-slabs to pussy cats, so every case presented different challenges in removing and reinstalling the material.

The aim was to get the objects from the cases photographed and replaced as quickly as possible (usually the next day), and with a huge effort from curators, project staff, photographers, technicians and one handily tall colleague, the collection was all back in place on the galleries a day early. Just a brief insight into the daily challenges of digitising 90,000 of our objects for Collections Online!

“We were lucky to have a holiday every year. We used to go to Ramsgate every year. I think we were privileged really.” Rose Gower, born in London in 1925

© Henry Grant Collection / Museum of London

They say travel can broaden your mind. However, with the current squeeze on many people’s finances, Londoners, who have come to see a holiday abroad as an affordable part of everyday life, are now choosing the ‘staycation’ and holidaying in the UK instead.

As the school holidays are about to start, I began thinking about where to take my family on holiday this year, and it looks like it will be somewhere closer to home. With that in mind, I sought inspiration from some of the holiday memories held within the Museum of London’s oral history archive. Hopefully the sun will shine and it won’t turn out to be like the holiday described by Betty Phillips, born in London, 1923.

“We had a holiday in Blackpool. It was a howling gale and we used to sit in the café and watch the people holding onto lampposts, wearing a pac-a-mac and being blown along.”

Less than a century ago, holidays were still a luxury, enjoyed mainly by the upper and middle classes and for many Londoners, the only way to have a country break was to work. Leslie Ho, born in Limehouse in 1919, remembers his childhood experience of hop picking…listen to Leslie Ho audio file.

© Henry Grant Collection / Museum of London

The traditional British seaside destinations favored by Londoners include South End, Margate, Ramsgate or Brighton, as we can see from these images from the Museum’s collections, taken by photographer Bob Collins.

© Estate of Bob Collins

© Estate of Bob Collins

At these seaside towns, generations of Londoners have taken to building sandcastles, going on donkey rides, paddling in the sea, collecting seashells and watching Punch and Judy shows. As Queenie Mortimer, born in London in 1925 describes:

“I saw my very first Punch and Judy show. It was a lovely day….there was this brightness at the end, and it was Punch and Judy. And the one and only time that I have ever seen the dog Toby, and his ruff that was always part of Punch and Judy…To this day, I still love a Punch and Judy show, and I think most grown-ups do.”

Many also went to the seaside to seek the sun, and from the 1930’s getting a tan became desirable. Pat Nelson, born in Greenwich 1932, recalls trying to get a sun tan whilst on holiday in Weymouth…listen to Pat Nelson audio file.

If you didn’t want to travel to the coast, there was even a beach in London which opened in 1934. The Tower of London Children’s Beach, or Tower Beach, was created by transporting more than 1,500 tons of sand to the Thames’ north foreshore near Tower Bridge. It was very popular, attracting hundreds of thousands of people, even though the river’s tide meant that the beach was only open for a couple of hours a day. The beach finally closed in 1971 due to pollution in the river.

© Henry Grant Collection / Museum of London

Then there was always camping. In a recent rare break in the rain during monsoon June, my young children persuaded us to put up our family tent in the back garden for a spot of urban camping under the stars…and street lights. I have to add, this was more like “glamping”, a phrase recently coined by a trend for luxury camping in things called yurts, tipis or safari tents. We had a great time at the bottom of the garden, with our comfortable air beds and cosy sleeping bags and of course our own bathroom indoors, even the cat joined in. However compared to the rigors of Girl Guide camping as described by Diane Parnell born in Highbury in 1940, we were amateurs…listen to Diane Parnell audio file.

© Henry Grant Collection / Museum of London

The call of the wild and the great outdoors began in the early decades of the 20th century and created a movement of people seeking escapes to the countryside, adventure and freedom. In the 1930’s more and more people were also taking rambling holidays in the countryside. The Youth Hostels Association founded in 1930, had 80,000 members by 1939. Stella Emmanuel, born in Ealing in 1928 recalls her experiences…listen to Stella Emmanuel audio file.

Another classic feature of British holidays is the holiday camp, which came into prominence after Billy Butlin opened his first camp in 1936. Ernest Mark, born in Sierra Leone in 1902, shares his memories of going to holiday camps…listen to Ernest Mark audio file.

There are many more interviewees in the Museum’s Oral History Collection, who recall the special places that they visited for their precious holiday weeks, such as quirky English guest houses with lumpy beds, or relaxing days spent in posh hotels. However with so much variety to choose from, these vivid memories of holidaying in the UK have definitely inspired ideas for a great family holiday!

By Sarah Gudgin, Museum of London Curator of Oral History and Contemporary Collecting.

Following on from her post last year, Project Assistant, Ellie Miles, continues her work digitising the Museum of London’s theatrical portraits.

“kaleidoscopes of changing pictures, echoes of the past”

This is how Robert Louis Stevenson describes the theatrical portraits he collected as a child. I am working with the Museum’s collection of theatrical portraits, to publish them on Collections Online.

Whilst researching the collection I read a very enthusiastic essay by Robert Louis Stevenson. The essay was first published in April 1884, in The Magazine of Art, and later that year appeared in Stevenson’s book Memories and Portraits. Stevenson’s essay is marked with a bittersweet nostalgia as he recalls the bewildering pleasures of buying, colouring and collecting theatrical portraits:

“To undo those bundles and breathlessly devour those pages of gesticulating villains, epileptic combats, bosky forests, palaces and war-ships, frowning fortresses and prison vaults – it was a giddy joy.” (Stevenson, 1884)

This year the Museum will put a thousand of these portraits on Collections Online. Most include information about the name of the actor and character that they are performing. This information has been digitised so that researchers can quickly look through for individuals.

“Every sheet we fingered was another lightning glance into obscure, delicious story”. (Stevenson, 1884)

In most of the portraits the actors’ features are stylised, and many of the costumes are very similar. The names allow me to find out more about the actors, but the names had a more romantic place in Stevenson’s memory. Stevenson reminds us that: “Names, bare names, are surely more to children than we poor, grown up, obliterated fools remember” (Stevenson, 1884). Anyone who has collected football stickers or other memorabilia will remember the excitement of holding printed names in their hands.

Theatrical portraits were sold either for a penny plain, or two pence coloured. The Museum’s collection includes both, as well as some of the tinsel theatrical portraits I blogged about here. In the essay Stevenson recounts the pleasure of painting in the colours at home:

“I cannot deny the joy that attended the illumination, nor can I quite forget that child, who forgoing pleasure, stoops to tuppence coloured… when all was painted, it is needless to deny it, all was spoiled” (Stevenson 1884)

The Museum has just over a thousand theatrical portraits. They came to the Museum through the family of a London stationer, Jonathan King. He sold the prints and collected examples, but not everybody kept hold of theirs. Although portraits were popular, they became quite scarce. Stevenson wrote: “It may be the museum numbers a full set, but to the plain private person they are become, like Raphaels, unattainable” (Stevenson, 1884)

The Museum’s collection of theatrical portraits will be online soon, and I’ll blog about them again in a fortnight.

Pot Idol is a contest to find the ceramic star of tomorrow! The winner will be given its time to shine and brought out from the archives at the Museum of London’s Festival of British Archaeology event, Hands-on pots, taking place on 21 and 22 July.

Over the last couple of months we have presented 6 hopeful pots for your consideration and asked you to decide which you would like to win the coveted title of Pot Idol.

The votes are in, and the winner of Pot Idol 2012, with 50% of the vote, is…Money Box!

This 16th – 17th century money box would have been used to store coins in and then smashed to get the coins out, just like a modern piggy bank. Most ceramic money boxes are found broken. This one has been repaired next to the slit for the coins but originally it had a large hole in it where the owner had broken it open. Archaeologists found a lot of money box tops during the excavations of the Rose Theatre in Southwark, indicating that money boxes were used to collect entrance fees from the audience. The money boxes were so cheap that they would have been smashed to get the collected money after the performances. Some of the money boxes may also have been used by people selling food and drink to the audience. This one is made from Surrey/Hampshire Border Ware.

The Festival of British Archaeology runs from 14-29 July 2012. Join staff at the Museum of London for an exploration into the vital role that ceramics have played in the history of the capital. Discover how pots were made and why, and try crafting your own. A special weekend of family activities will take place on 21 and 22 July.

> Find out more about the Museum’s Festival of British Archaeology events
> Find out more about the Festival of British Archaeology