“You have to pay, it’s not free,” I heard the front-of-house lady call. Luckily, she was not talking to me. I’d already stumped up my £7 entry fee to the Novium, Chichester’s new £6.9m museum built above the remains of a Roman bathhouse.
The issue of entry charges has been passionately debated in this publication and elsewhere and while I don’t intend to get into the rights and wrongs of charging here, for a local authority museum it does have a bearing on the question of value, visitor figures and people’s sense of ownership of museums in their local vicinity, as well as setting the tone for a visit. But more of that later.
The Novium is split across three levels. The exposed Roman bath remains fill most of the ground-floor space, with two films projected onto the striking concrete walls – one of actors in togas washing and relaxing and the other of local objects such as a lobster pot and a cathedral bell.
Also on display in this area are two of the museum’s star objects: the Chilgrove Mosaic, which dates back to the fourth century and was previously shown at the nearby Fishbourne Roman Palace, and the Jupiter Stone, a portion of Roman sculpture base found during local excavations.
As someone who knows next to nothing about Chichester I would have welcomed a text panel with some contextual information about the city and its Roman past at this point. Admittedly, handouts available at the ticket desk do explain the ruins and also offer some information about the objects on display, but these didn’t feel sufficient at such an important point in the visit.
And while the projections look good, they don’t add anything to the space, unlike the film in the Yorkshire Museum in York, which explains its Roman history to visitors very effectively.
Upstairs, things improve considerably. The first-floor gallery is entitled Place and shows how the city and surrounding area have changed over the years. In the centre of the room is a huge display case full of Roman pots and other artefacts presented according to four themes – trading places; domestic places; connecting places; and burial places.
It reminded me of a glass zoo cage, and I loved walking around it and peering inside. I particularly enjoyed the small displays that looked at how things have changed over time; for example, a Roman key contrasted with a medieval equivalent.
Some items are put on display in deep-set cases on the walls around the gallery, including a timetable for Queen Victoria’s funeral train and an Oxo tin, but it’s not entirely clear why these are not in the central case (a lack of space perhaps?). Some smell boxes also on the walls are a nice touch but possibly a little too high for small children to reach.
Up another set of stairs, and visitors are rewarded with a fantastic view of Chichester with a very helpful map etched onto the window explaining what the different buildings are. In this space, children can touch examples of chimney pots and cathedral stonework and there are also listening posts to accompany the view.
Rummage fun
The second-floor gallery is entitled People and Emotions and is organised into sub-themes – creativity; joy; beauty; sorrow; and bravery.
This has enabled the curators to link objects in unusual yet meaningful ways; for example, a humane mousetrap sits alongside opticians’ tools and a telescope owned by a local fisherman within the creativity section, while the sorrow case contains bones and medicine bottles (to illustrate bad health). There is also a smuggler’s cutlass (crime and punishment) and workhouse vestiges.
The objects themselves are arranged on and within stacked boxes instead of shelves. As well as looking fantastic, this approach really gives visitors a sense that they are discovering (uncovering) the collections themselves – as though they’d wandered into a museum storeroom by mistake.
Drawers underneath cases can also be pulled out to see what’s inside, although I only realised this as I was leaving and there was no time to go back and explore.
In both galleries, labels are colour-coded according to theme. Aside from a few too many exclamation marks, these are well-written and informative, adding plenty of context, the occasional bit of humour (“ouch” next to a set of Roman farrier’s emasculators for detaching testicles from livestock) and personal stories relating to the people who owned some of the items of display.
One label next to a lead coffin from the 4th century AD helpfully explains that the marks on the lid are imprints of bones made by the weight of the soil above pressing down on the body. The stories are sensitively handled throughout, contributing to the overriding sense that Chichester is a city shaped by the people who have lived, and died, here over many centuries.
What a shame, though, that there is very little about the city’s more recent past. As far as I could tell, there’s nothing contemporary on display, which is a shame for younger visitors who may feel their story is not being told in these galleries. I could be wrong, however, as not all the labels include dates – for example a joke mug with a frog inside could be anything from 10 to 100 years old.
No timeline
The Novium’s move away from chronological displays is refreshing and helps visitors focus on the themes curators have chosen. A map at the entrance to the first-floor gallery marks historic sites and spots according to “period”, but these don’t crop up anywhere else in the museum and don’t mean much to people like me who can never quite remember whether the bronze or iron age came first.
I suspect the map is a concession to the fans of chronology, but without full commitment to this approach, it doesn’t really contribute much.
As I left the museum, past a short queue at the ticket desk, I asked myself who the Novium is for. It is close to Chichester Cathedral in the centre of the city and is bound to attract plenty of tourists who don’t mind paying the entry charge.
But beyond the Roman remains and artefacts, the museum essentially houses a local history collection that tells the story of the Chichester’s past up until the middle of the 20th century.
No temporary exhibition spaces have been built into the new museum, although its website does state that exhibitions will be changing over time. But will this be enough for locals to come back, or even to get them to commit financially to an annual ticket?
Add to this the fact that there is no cafe, and the shop is pretty basic, and you have to wonder what role the Novium sees itself playing in the community and how local people will use it.
I came away impressed by its approach to display and interpretation. But there seems to be something missing – some sense that this should not be just a building with galleries in it, but it should also act as a communal space for people to come and learn, or just hang out.
Museums hold so much potential to become the heart and soul of a community. I’m not sure that the Novium will achieve this.
The issue of entry charges has been passionately debated in this publication and elsewhere and while I don’t intend to get into the rights and wrongs of charging here, for a local authority museum it does have a bearing on the question of value, visitor figures and people’s sense of ownership of museums in their local vicinity, as well as setting the tone for a visit. But more of that later.
The Novium is split across three levels. The exposed Roman bath remains fill most of the ground-floor space, with two films projected onto the striking concrete walls – one of actors in togas washing and relaxing and the other of local objects such as a lobster pot and a cathedral bell.
Also on display in this area are two of the museum’s star objects: the Chilgrove Mosaic, which dates back to the fourth century and was previously shown at the nearby Fishbourne Roman Palace, and the Jupiter Stone, a portion of Roman sculpture base found during local excavations.
As someone who knows next to nothing about Chichester I would have welcomed a text panel with some contextual information about the city and its Roman past at this point. Admittedly, handouts available at the ticket desk do explain the ruins and also offer some information about the objects on display, but these didn’t feel sufficient at such an important point in the visit.
And while the projections look good, they don’t add anything to the space, unlike the film in the Yorkshire Museum in York, which explains its Roman history to visitors very effectively.
Upstairs, things improve considerably. The first-floor gallery is entitled Place and shows how the city and surrounding area have changed over the years. In the centre of the room is a huge display case full of Roman pots and other artefacts presented according to four themes – trading places; domestic places; connecting places; and burial places.
It reminded me of a glass zoo cage, and I loved walking around it and peering inside. I particularly enjoyed the small displays that looked at how things have changed over time; for example, a Roman key contrasted with a medieval equivalent.
Some items are put on display in deep-set cases on the walls around the gallery, including a timetable for Queen Victoria’s funeral train and an Oxo tin, but it’s not entirely clear why these are not in the central case (a lack of space perhaps?). Some smell boxes also on the walls are a nice touch but possibly a little too high for small children to reach.
Up another set of stairs, and visitors are rewarded with a fantastic view of Chichester with a very helpful map etched onto the window explaining what the different buildings are. In this space, children can touch examples of chimney pots and cathedral stonework and there are also listening posts to accompany the view.
Rummage fun
The second-floor gallery is entitled People and Emotions and is organised into sub-themes – creativity; joy; beauty; sorrow; and bravery.
This has enabled the curators to link objects in unusual yet meaningful ways; for example, a humane mousetrap sits alongside opticians’ tools and a telescope owned by a local fisherman within the creativity section, while the sorrow case contains bones and medicine bottles (to illustrate bad health). There is also a smuggler’s cutlass (crime and punishment) and workhouse vestiges.
The objects themselves are arranged on and within stacked boxes instead of shelves. As well as looking fantastic, this approach really gives visitors a sense that they are discovering (uncovering) the collections themselves – as though they’d wandered into a museum storeroom by mistake.
Drawers underneath cases can also be pulled out to see what’s inside, although I only realised this as I was leaving and there was no time to go back and explore.
In both galleries, labels are colour-coded according to theme. Aside from a few too many exclamation marks, these are well-written and informative, adding plenty of context, the occasional bit of humour (“ouch” next to a set of Roman farrier’s emasculators for detaching testicles from livestock) and personal stories relating to the people who owned some of the items of display.
One label next to a lead coffin from the 4th century AD helpfully explains that the marks on the lid are imprints of bones made by the weight of the soil above pressing down on the body. The stories are sensitively handled throughout, contributing to the overriding sense that Chichester is a city shaped by the people who have lived, and died, here over many centuries.
What a shame, though, that there is very little about the city’s more recent past. As far as I could tell, there’s nothing contemporary on display, which is a shame for younger visitors who may feel their story is not being told in these galleries. I could be wrong, however, as not all the labels include dates – for example a joke mug with a frog inside could be anything from 10 to 100 years old.
No timeline
The Novium’s move away from chronological displays is refreshing and helps visitors focus on the themes curators have chosen. A map at the entrance to the first-floor gallery marks historic sites and spots according to “period”, but these don’t crop up anywhere else in the museum and don’t mean much to people like me who can never quite remember whether the bronze or iron age came first.
I suspect the map is a concession to the fans of chronology, but without full commitment to this approach, it doesn’t really contribute much.
As I left the museum, past a short queue at the ticket desk, I asked myself who the Novium is for. It is close to Chichester Cathedral in the centre of the city and is bound to attract plenty of tourists who don’t mind paying the entry charge.
But beyond the Roman remains and artefacts, the museum essentially houses a local history collection that tells the story of the Chichester’s past up until the middle of the 20th century.
No temporary exhibition spaces have been built into the new museum, although its website does state that exhibitions will be changing over time. But will this be enough for locals to come back, or even to get them to commit financially to an annual ticket?
Add to this the fact that there is no cafe, and the shop is pretty basic, and you have to wonder what role the Novium sees itself playing in the community and how local people will use it.
I came away impressed by its approach to display and interpretation. But there seems to be something missing – some sense that this should not be just a building with galleries in it, but it should also act as a communal space for people to come and learn, or just hang out.
Museums hold so much potential to become the heart and soul of a community. I’m not sure that the Novium will achieve this.
Project data
- Cost £6.9m
- Main funder Chichester District Council
- Exhibition design Event
- Architect Keith Williams Architects
- Main contractor Vinci Construction UK
- Main contractor (exhibition fit-out) The Hub
- Construction management (exhibition) Appleyards
- Building construction project management Robinson Low Francis
- Project management Robinson Low Francis
- Structural engineer Techniker
- M&E engineer Gifford
- Lighting consultant Sutton Vane Associates
- Quantity surveyor Rider Levett Bucknall
- Archaeology consultant Development Archaeology services
- Disability access consultant Martin Affleck