It was an awesome display of power as Charles Saumarez Smith, Neil MacGregor and Mark Jones sat side-by-side before the first session of the Culture, Media and Sport select committee.
It put one in mind of the closing sequence of the film Ghostbusters, where the eccentric brainbox, the reclusive genius and the suave, smooth-talking one decide to cross the beams of their weapons, something they have been warned against doing, in order to slay the marshmallow man, a ridiculous, seemingly ineffectual entity.
John Whittingdale MP, former Conservative shadow culture secretary turned chairman of the select committee, started with a question about the Theatre Museum. 'What went wrong?' he growled. Jones deftly dodged the question, a slightly twitching index finger under the desk the only sign that he was a bit ruffled, and responded with a reply so convincingly smooth it could be described as the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
Then marshmallow man turned his attentions to an easier target. Why did the British Museum (BM) not return the 'Elgin' marbles to Athens? MacGregor, for whom the session had been delayed so that he could fly back that morning from a meeting in Berlin, and with a look that gave credence to the expression 'red-eye flight', described how there was no need to return the marbles as the BM would be giving the Greeks a video of them.
Adrian Sanders MP spotted a flaw in this argument and moved in for the kill: 'Why not put the video in the British Museum and return the marbles?' Because, Macgregor explained, nowhere else in Europe other than the BM could you look at the cultural achievements of the whole world in one building. Now leave me alone. (He didn't actually say the last bit, but he looked like he wanted to.)
The committee looked confused. The marshmallow man wasn't quite vanquished in a puff of smoke, but as Saumarez Smith donned his dapper green jacket and made his way down the corridor with Jones and MacGregor at his side, one imagined them high-fiving as they turned the corner with a cry of 'Who ya gonna call?'
It put one in mind of the closing sequence of the film Ghostbusters, where the eccentric brainbox, the reclusive genius and the suave, smooth-talking one decide to cross the beams of their weapons, something they have been warned against doing, in order to slay the marshmallow man, a ridiculous, seemingly ineffectual entity.
John Whittingdale MP, former Conservative shadow culture secretary turned chairman of the select committee, started with a question about the Theatre Museum. 'What went wrong?' he growled. Jones deftly dodged the question, a slightly twitching index finger under the desk the only sign that he was a bit ruffled, and responded with a reply so convincingly smooth it could be described as the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
Then marshmallow man turned his attentions to an easier target. Why did the British Museum (BM) not return the 'Elgin' marbles to Athens? MacGregor, for whom the session had been delayed so that he could fly back that morning from a meeting in Berlin, and with a look that gave credence to the expression 'red-eye flight', described how there was no need to return the marbles as the BM would be giving the Greeks a video of them.
Adrian Sanders MP spotted a flaw in this argument and moved in for the kill: 'Why not put the video in the British Museum and return the marbles?' Because, Macgregor explained, nowhere else in Europe other than the BM could you look at the cultural achievements of the whole world in one building. Now leave me alone. (He didn't actually say the last bit, but he looked like he wanted to.)
The committee looked confused. The marshmallow man wasn't quite vanquished in a puff of smoke, but as Saumarez Smith donned his dapper green jacket and made his way down the corridor with Jones and MacGregor at his side, one imagined them high-fiving as they turned the corner with a cry of 'Who ya gonna call?'
