With talk of economic policy, banking regulation and austerity being a constant in the British media of late, the refurbishment of the Bank of England Museum comes at a very appropriate time.
The museum, which reopened at the end of March, has the task of not only presenting the history of such an august institution but, perhaps more importantly in the current climate, explaining exactly what its role is.
The wooden structure, which looks like a combination of a ship’s hull and whale’s ribcage, is the centrepiece of a design that attempts to articulate the many and varied responsibilities of the Bank of England.
While this may sound a little dry, the simplicity of the explanations is very successful. The use of flow diagrams gives visitors an appreciation of not only what the Bank of England does but how it does it.
Before you reach her there are further interactive elements on display. The most effective of these is a large glass tube containing a metal ball which must be kept in the middle, never straying far from a mark of 2%.
You are given a rating at the end and I was told in no uncertain terms that I had achieved the lofty heights of ship’s cook. This was accompanied on the screen by a large raspberry noise, leaving me in little doubt about my lack of success.
You are taken through tulip mania in the 1630s, the South Sea bubble in 1720, the railway mania of the 19th century and right up to our current financial predicament. The touchscreen makes great use of images and sounds to beautifully explain that these troubles are nothing new and are doubtless to be repeated.
These displays, evidently unchanged during the closure, give you a chronological narrative of the significant individuals and events that have shaped the bank.
These range from Sir John Soane’s secret ballot box in the shape of an ancient Greek temple, to a test (which includes the task of tracing the course of the Loire, Mississippi, Rhine, Seine and Vistula rivers) given in 1906 to prospective members of staff.
Even if there is scant evidence of a link between TE Lawrence and the object itself there is a direct link between the man and the Bank of England.
In truth, the former job was proposed so Lawrence could get on with his writing undisturbed, which says a lot about the bank’s relaxed approach to security in the early part of the 20th century.
In the last room there are screens showing animations about the bank’s roles and responsibilities, again communicating complex ideas in a breezy, engaging way, much like the museum as a whole.
The museum, which reopened at the end of March, has the task of not only presenting the history of such an august institution but, perhaps more importantly in the current climate, explaining exactly what its role is.
The entrance to the museum is rather understated compared with the temples to finance that are within a pound coin’s throw of the building. Visitors enter through a metal detector and past a man resplendent in a light pink top hat and tails.
The museum begins in a reconstruction of the Stock Office built originally by Sir John Soane in the 18th-century. Two things initially struck me. Firstly, the wonderfully elegant neo-classical domed ceiling with its circle of windows and, secondly, how this contrasted with the new wooden frame sitting in the middle of the room.
The wooden structure, which looks like a combination of a ship’s hull and whale’s ribcage, is the centrepiece of a design that attempts to articulate the many and varied responsibilities of the Bank of England.
Flow diagrams
This nautical theme is the single largest addition to the museum since it reopened and has perhaps the hardest task. Brightly coloured text panels break the Bank of England’s roles into digestible chunks, addressing inflation, the Monetary Policy Committee, quantitative easing and the Financial Policy Committee, among others.
While this may sound a little dry, the simplicity of the explanations is very successful. The use of flow diagrams gives visitors an appreciation of not only what the Bank of England does but how it does it.
The wooden centrepiece acts as a funnel directing visitors toward the new interactive game Take the Helm!, which sits beside a tall mast and sails bearing a maritime-focused Britannia, who holds a telescope to her eye.
Before you reach her there are further interactive elements on display. The most effective of these is a large glass tube containing a metal ball which must be kept in the middle, never straying far from a mark of 2%.
Inflation game
A piston on the left, representing economic shock, intermittently changes the angle of the tube forcing the user to make subtle adjustments to maintain the ball’s position. The interactive demonstrates the importance of controlling inflation while also showing how hard this can be.
Take the Helm!, which is the largest and nosiest element of the new display, encourages players to maintain a safe course aboard a ship being buffeted by changeable financial winds. This attempt to explain the setting of monetary policy is actually rather challenging and I failed miserably on my first go.
You are given a rating at the end and I was told in no uncertain terms that I had achieved the lofty heights of ship’s cook. This was accompanied on the screen by a large raspberry noise, leaving me in little doubt about my lack of success.
Chronological sweep
The most effective interactive element of the display is a touchscreen that takes you through more than 300 years of catastrophes, crashes, meltdowns or whichever word is in vogue at any one time.
You are taken through tulip mania in the 1630s, the South Sea bubble in 1720, the railway mania of the 19th century and right up to our current financial predicament. The touchscreen makes great use of images and sounds to beautifully explain that these troubles are nothing new and are doubtless to be repeated.
At this point the museum returns to a more traditional aesthetic, with displays relating to the bank’s architecture encircling the new additions to the museum. From the large expansiveness of the stock office, the museum becomes more labyrinthine as the new, colourful signage directs you to displays on the history of the bank from its origins at the end of the 17th century.
These displays, evidently unchanged during the closure, give you a chronological narrative of the significant individuals and events that have shaped the bank.
It is not until you enter the rotunda that you are presented with a new display on Curiosities from the Vaults, which shows some of the more intriguing objects held in the museum’s collection. This temporary exhibition is placed among a permanent display about the bank’s history between 1800 and its nationalisation in 1946.
This combination of two separate displays in one room looks disjointed but once you accustom yourself to follow the light blue panels of the temporary exhibition there are some fascinating objects to see.
These range from Sir John Soane’s secret ballot box in the shape of an ancient Greek temple, to a test (which includes the task of tracing the course of the Loire, Mississippi, Rhine, Seine and Vistula rivers) given in 1906 to prospective members of staff.
The object that will doubtless attract the most attention is a battered leather case accompanied by the question: “Is this Lawrence of Arabia’s saddle bag?”
Even if there is scant evidence of a link between TE Lawrence and the object itself there is a direct link between the man and the Bank of England.
He was offered the post of nightwatchman in 1928 and bank secretary in 1935, which surely wins the award for most disparate jobs offered to the same person by a single institution.
In truth, the former job was proposed so Lawrence could get on with his writing undisturbed, which says a lot about the bank’s relaxed approach to security in the early part of the 20th century.
Virtue of simplicity
From here, visitors are directed through the banknote gallery, stopping off to hear an animated gold bar voiced by actor Stephen Fry (bringing together two national treasures in one place) and then on into the final display on modern banknotes.
In the last room there are screens showing animations about the bank’s roles and responsibilities, again communicating complex ideas in a breezy, engaging way, much like the museum as a whole.
Ben Alsop is the project curator at the Citi Money Gallery, British Museum, London
Project data
- Cost undisclosed
- Exhibition design and project management Tuch Design
- Curator Jennifer Adam
- 3D design Cubit 3D
- Interactives Clay Interactive
- Guides and signage Red Stone
