Communicating Doors – Menier Chocolate Factory

No summer in London would be complete without at least one Ayckbourn play to lighten the mood, and this time the Menier Chocolate Factory has revived one of the more unusual ones. Communicating Doors is a sort-of supernatural / sci-fi comedy set in the same hotel room in the 1980s, 2000 and 2020 in which particular characters are able to journey into the past using a enchanted cupboard. It is about as bonkers as it sounds, but with Ayckbourn’s trademark gentle British humour and a dash of Blithe Spirit magic, it somehow pulls it off.

In 2020 dominatrix Poopay arrives at a hotel suite to find Reece a man incapacitated by illness who, rather than enjoying her services, really wants her to be an independent witness to a death-bed confession about how he conspired in the murder of both his wives by his associate Julian. Before long Julian himself appears and realises what’s been going on and Poopay escapes into a cupboard. When she emerges later that night she finds herself in the exact same hotel room, only 20 years earlier and it’s occupied by Reece’s second wife Ruella. Poopay must convince Ruella that her life is in danger and they must work together to not only save first wife Jessica but also to stop Julian before he stops them.

This isn’t your standard Ayckbourn fare and his staple middle class but lonely characters don’t really appear here. Instead we get a time-hopping not-quite murder mystery that you know what, actually works a treat. The premise is utterly ridiculous and given it’s 1994 creation may even seem a little tame in the sci-fi / fantasy extremes of the twenty-first century, but none of that matters as Ayckbourn’s distinctive ability to skewer a certain type of British behaviour shines through. It also has a genuine sense of danger for all three women as they battle against their destinies and the menacing Julian, before finally giving the audience a neat and redemptive ending all round.

Rachel Tucker drives the action brilliantly as the dominatrix turned time-traveling samaritan Poopay – her pseudonym which is meant to be poupee, or doll in French. In a classic Ayckbourn way she doesn’t seem at all cut out for the life she has chosen, far too nervous and meek than you’d expect someone from her profession to be. Tucker is great at pulling all these contradictions together while quite rightly playing the role absolutely straight to maintain the drama of her situation. Imogen Stubbs makes quite an entrance as the bossy but practical Ruella who hears and accepts the situation with remarkable ease. Stubbs brings a motherly quality to the role in her desire to protect both Poopay and Jessica, her predecessor as Reece’s wife, which means she’s as willing to be nurturing as she is to discipline and is marvellous in her first scene where she insists her nocturnal visitor sits down quietly and stops making such a fuss – traits I found to be somewhat familiar!

Perfectly complementing this unlikely trio is Lucy Briggs-Owen as the dappy Jessica who refuses to believe a word of it when Ruella travels back to the 1980s to interrupt her wedding night. Briggs-Owen is probably one of the most versatile actresses in London proving her comedy mettle here as well as her more dramatic skills in last year’s woeful Fortune’s Fool at the Old Vic – in fact Briggs-Owen was its only saving grace in the absence of the unwell Iain Glenn. Her role here is rather smaller than the others but proves to be a crucial one and one of the highlights of the evening.

While this is very much a play about the underestimated resourcefulness of three very different women, they are ably supported by three fine actors. David Bamber, known to most as Pride & Prejudice’s Mr Collins, is a genuinely evil Julian, creditably wringing every bit of menace from the role, despite some extraordinary wigs allowing him to play himself in two eras. There’s a scene before the interval that will make you want to lock all your doors very carefully when you go home. Similarly Robert Portal gets to play Reece as an aged man and as an 80s newlywed. Despite being off stage for much of the play, in some ways the whole piece is about him and the women he encountered, so Portal gives just enough in both periods to help the audience find his success credible.

Finally Matthew Cottle pops up as long-standing security man Harold, a most Ayckbourn of creations, a helpful jobs-worth naturally disappointed by his own life. Appropriate that Cottle, an actor who frequently appears in Ayckbourn’s plays should take the most likely character. It’s a great role and fun for Cottle to play, as Harold goes from young man, who’s only staying a few years, to veteran. His reaction during an absolutely hilarious balcony scene in 2000 is priceless

Director Lindsay Posner and designer Richard Kent have created a staid but likely hotel room that doesn’t change its décor (or clearly its staff) in 40 years. It’s nice to have a cut-away wall showing the bathroom which adds a bit of variety from staging everything in the living room, and becomes a useful place to hide. They’ve gone for full on clunk with the titular ‘Communicating Door’ and I quite like that, the premise is a little bit silly so why not emphasise that instead of trying to make it look swish and modern. So what we get is a very self-aware but great revolving cupboard some swirly lights and ‘magic time travelling’ music – love it.

Communicating Doors is a genuinely fun night of escapist nonsense full of great performances and great writing. I’ve seen at least one Ayckbourn in London every summer for years and it’s a tradition I always look forward to, and still haven’t seen anywhere near all of them.  This one though is a little different to the rest, so it’s well worth popping over to London Bridge for this quirky little tale of ex-wives, prostitutes, guilty businessmen, hotel living, sinister men name Julian and a bit of time travel.

Communicating Doors is at the Menier Chocolate Factory until 27 June, and tickets are from £32.50 with concessions available at £25.


Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty – V&A

new-savage-beauty-banner

Image: Copyright V&A

 

Fierce and fantastical are the only way to describe this brilliant exhibition at the V&A and you can see why pretty much everyone in London is trying to get a ticket. If you’ve ever thought that fashion was a frivolous pastime with absolutely no artistic value then this McQueen show can absolutely change your mind, it is beautiful – both the clothes and the setting.  Wandering through the rooms is like being in some enchanted fairy-tale land, becoming more wide-eyed with astonishment as each new and distinct section unfolds around you.

It’s not that long ago that the Constable paintings filled these rooms and this exhibition presents McQueen’s clothes like high art to be admired and felt. Some have complained that there’s not enough biographical detail about McQueen himself and where his inspiration comes from, but in way that’s also a good thing because unlike paintings, clothes are often used to say far more about a person. The way you dress day-to-day is indicative of your personality and in some sense synonymous with the way you present yourself to the world. You may have books and art and objects in your home which reflect your taste or interests, but none of these are seen as frequently or as widely as your clothing. If you accept that, then you have to apply that idea to this exhibition – McQueen wasn’t making clothes he would wear but ones he hoped would appeal to a wide female audience. They may be his vision but there is something the viewer or wearer must bring to them as well, so in some sense this is about your interaction with the clothes. It’s like a Saatchi Gallery art exhibition in that sense, no real information just you and the stuff with no artist in the way, which I respect.

So the exhibition’s beginnings are surprisingly tame and modest, showcasing some early tailored items from McQueen’s student and early collections in London. Although these aren’t the showstoppers we’ll see later, actually this is quite a shrewd move because you instantly get a clear sense of his aesthetic and approach to designing without being distracted by the more dramatic outfits created later. You learn how McQueen designed for women from the side because it was easier to see the body shape and creatively disguise problem areas, as well as his interest for sharp lines and powerful shapes. There’s also a clear reference to Victorian styles so plenty of frock coats in various forms, some with human hair apparently sewn into the lining which I was pleased not to see at 8am.

Then things take on a more exciting pace as the next room is decorated with tarnished mirrors and gilt to present some of the slightly harder-edged collections themed here as Romantic Gothic. There’s something quite Phantom of the Opera about this room combining a highly ornate and elaborate staging with a sense of darkness and danger. Each dummy wears a leather face mask and is surrounded by mirrors underneath, behind and to each side giving a view of the outfits from every angle as well as a disquieting sense of distortion to underline the style of these pieces.  There is a grand theatricality about the outfits in this room and there’s certainly nothing romantic or wistful about them, but they also maintain McQueen’s sharp lines and powerful silhouettes.

The next section is a complete change again to focus on McQueen’s interest in natural history and animal life. The walls are corrugated with bones and each dress is couched into a recess that seems to have been gouged into the wall, all rather like a primitive cave dwelling. The clothes also reflect this tribal feel with earthy colours, animal fabrics like pony skin and strong shoulder-lines. Weirdly each mannequin has a curved plastic shape on its face that looks like a trunk or a tusk to emphasise that primeval feel. Sound and projection are used to good effect here to add atmosphere, as well as clearly distinguishing the tone of the section.

Up next was my favourite room, combining McQueen’s Scotland-inspired pieces from The Widows of Culloden (2006) with The Girl Who Lived in a Tree (2008). There’s a lot of competition but my favourite dress in the whole exhibition is a knee-length full skirted white tulle number with patterned red stones filling the bodice which nods paradoxically to the decadent purity of the eighteenth-century style, yes I could definitely wear this dress. It sits alongside a suite of similarly inspired outfits combining ruffles, feathers and elegant draping effects which are pure romanticism, striking an interesting contrast to the political statement of the Scottish pieces facing them where innovative technique in the cutting and use of fabric is clear.

The Cabinet of Curiosities is a completely new section for the London shows and is rather like reaching the centre of the maze. It is floor to ceiling stuff and everywhere you look there are countless examples of McQueen’s work; from clothes to Philip Treacy hats, to shoes and facial ornaments- including the beautiful butterfly headdress adoring some of the advertising material. All interspersed with fashion show footage. Luckily there are seats so you can sit down while trying to take it all in. In the penultimate rooms the focus is on romanticism and nature featuring outfits incorporating shells, feathers and antlers, plus ruffles and lots of floaty fabrics but still retaining that trademark structure. Most outstanding is a dress made entirely of 3-dimensional flowers which is crazy but also beautiful, while the final room has a futuristic feel with the last collection entitled Plato’s Atlantis.

As you wander out blinking into the shop, it’s pretty clear that this has been no ordinary V&A exhibition. In fact given the V&A’s poor form in its costume displays, with Hollywood Costumes, Ball gowns and Grace Kelly all being very badly curated, it’s clear that this is a touring show and, honestly, a relief. Tickets are still available and the museum is opening from 8am till late to facilitate extra time slots. I booked about 3 weeks in advance for an 8am entry (if you’re prepared to book a month ahead there are lots of tickets for any time) which I would highly recommend. At that time, the cumulative number of people is incredibly small so you can get close to each item and take your time, and you can just toddle off to work afterwards knowing you’ve had your culture fix before 10am. An 8am start also enhances the dreamlike quality of this wonderful exhibition. As I said at the beginning this is fashion at its most artistic, one of the best fashion shows I’ve seen, brilliantly designed and completely enchanting.

McQueen: Savage Beauty is at the V&A until 2 August. Tickets are £17.50 including booking fee and a range of reasonable concession prices are available for OAPs, students, disabled visitors and art fund members. Day tickets are also available from 10am and no photography is permitted in the exhibition.


Sargent: Portraits of Artists and Friends – National Portrait Gallery

Exhibitions at the National Portrait Gallery have taken an interesting turn lately and while a show is dedicated to the life of one individual, you leave having learned a huge amount about the times in which they lived and the interaction of various different groups within the cultural world. Last year the Gallery successfully staged a major David Bailey retrospective that told us a lot about his origins in the East End, his travelogue years and the host of artistic figures with whom he spent his time. This year, it uses his portraits to shine a light into the world of painter John Singer Sargent.

Sargent is an artist I know best for his First World War paintings including the stunning Gassed which is on permanent view at the Imperial War Museum, although Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose and Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth have long been highlights of Tate Britain’s freely available gallery selection, both of which have made the journey up Whitehall to this exhibition. His Great War paintings are beautiful and complex, mixing seemingly opposed ideas such as the disaster of war with a hint of hope and safety, but this exhibition focuses on the years until 1914. The way he paints light and the seemingly glamorous sheen of his subjects mean he’s often unfavourably compared to seventeenth-century master Van Dyck, court artist to Charles I, but in painting friends and fellow artists Sargent’s skill at capturing personality and surroundings becomes clear.

The exhibition begins with Sargent living in France and Italy, containing four rooms of portraits he composed from 1874-1885. The signs next to the pictures only tell you the name of the person but all the information about them and their relationship with Sargent is contained in the detailed guide given either at the ticket desk or exhibition entrance. I really like this touch and it shows a gallery that’s in tune with its audience. So often now guides are only available via app and for those without smart phones (and given the age demographic of the people I saw there that’s going to be an awful lot of people who go to art exhibitions) we miss out on this information. And in a packed space it also reduces the queuing time to read it on the sign, this way you can look at the picture and then move away somewhere quieter to read the background without holding everyone else up.

Anyway back to the work in Paris, there are a lot of notable pictures here, not least the theatrical Dr Pozzi at Home, a well know gynaecologist seen here in a bright scarlet dressing gown which has shades of Philippe de Champaigne’s portrait of Cardinal Richlieu, and Sargent’s first work at the Royal Academy. As well as the central figure, Sargent also uses the background and light in his work to interesting effect to create atmosphere and tone; a perfect of example of which is Ramon Subercaseaux in a Gondola which is most interesting for the formal looking man against the beautiful reflective quality of the water.

For many the portraits of Rodin and Monet will be most fascinating, both of whom Sargent admired and tried to emulate, creating a strong impression of the world in which these artists lived and worked together. Yet, quite another picture catches the eye, one which has a style rather different to those around it and showing the rehearsal of the Cirque d’Hiver orchestra. I liked the mix of impressionistic style and the sense of dynamic movement the painting has, like you can feel them performing. It also felt more modern than those around it.

Leaving the continent behind in the mid-1880s, Sargent came to England where he painted what is for me his most beautiful non-war picture, Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose inspired by a scene he witnessed from The Thames, combining all his skills for painting people with enchanting backgrounds and depiction of light. Especially lovely is the way the lanterns illuminate the children’s faces showing a particular moment of dusk-light as the sun sets, while the floral backdrop has an English country garden meets oriental effect. Monet’s painting outdoors influence is evident. Even better you can usually see this painting for free at Tate Britain any time you like. But it’s from this point that I realised that the really fascinating part of Sargent’s work is not the people necessarily but the context in which their painted, which becomes even more apparent in the next room.

The paintings of Boston and London all have one thing in common – the sitter is almost invariably shown against a dark or opaque background, and as you wander around these pictures you get a feeling of stifling nineteenth-century city life, in cluttered rooms, smoky cities and somewhat oppressive society – in fact these portraits look exactly how reading a Henry James novel feels (and James himself is one of those on show in this room). From the haughty looking dancer La Carmencita to the actress Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth and fellow artist W. Graham Robertson, the backdrops are gloomy to make you focus on the personality of the sitter but also imply something of the nature of Victorian city-life. In a lovely contrast, this room also displays a few incredible charcoal sketches which are so skilful they look as though someone has drawn over a photograph – particularly the one of the poet Yeats and actress Mary Anderson.

In the final room, Sargent escapes the repressive atmosphere of the city and returns to light openness of countryside and seascapes in Southern Europe. His Group with Parasols shows intermingled friends contentedly asleep on the grass, while The Fountain, Villa Torlonia, Frascati, Italy is a similarly relaxed scene of a female artist at work as her husband snoozes beside her. These are a lovely end to the exhibition taking you up to 1914 and hinting at the some of the incredibly evocative work Sargent would produce of people and desolate landscapes in the Great War.

The National Portrait Gallery’s exhibition is a brilliant insight into the work of a skilled and varied artist, one whose talent was dismissed in the early part of the Twentieth-century. As with their previous shows, the key here is not just being able to see around 70 paintings but the way in which these chart both the life Sargent was living in terms of his location and progression as an artist, but also the nature of the world he inhabited – one full of artists, musicians, actors, dancers and patrons. This exhibition reminds us that not only could Sargent paint accurate portraits of any sitter but brought to them a sense of personality and multiple references to the lives they lived.

Sargent: Portraits of Artists and Friends is at the National Portrait Gallery until 25 May. Tickets are £14.50, although the concession prices are not much less. Follow this blog on Twitter @culturalcap1


American Buffalo – Wyndhams Theatre

It’s not exactly James McAvoy unicycling in his underwear, but watching Damien Lewis sporting a 70s handlebar moustache and wearing a giant paper hat that he’s just made out of newspaper, ranks pretty highly on the list of things I was not expecting to see this year.  American Buffalo has just opened at the Wyndhams and is a sure sign that 2015 is disappearing fast as this marks the fourth of the ‘big five’ performances I earmarked in my Christmas review post. That means we’ve already had 3 months of a serenely comic McAvoy in The Ruling Class; a second stint for much deserved Olivier award winner Mark Strong in the epic A View from the Bridge; Ralph Fiennes is already two months into his brilliant philosophising bachelor in Man and Superman and that brings us up to date with Damien Lewis. The only one left is Cumberbatch’s Hamlet, which although booked long before any of the above, is still several months away. Thank God Kenneth Branagh’s Garrick season is in the bag or the autumn would be looking very grim.

Anyway back to Lewis, who is joined in David Mamet’s American Buffalo by John Goodman and Tom Sturridge in this comedy-drama about three very different men planning a heist. Don (Goodman) owns a junk shop and he’s just undersold a rare coin – the American Buffalo – to a collector, except it wasn’t until afterwards that he realised his mistake. Feeling cheated, he enlisted the help of his young friend Bob (Sturridge) to find the customer’s address and steal his coin collection. As the play opens Bob has found the man and the job is on for tonight. At this point Walter or ‘Teach’ (Lewis), Don’s poker buddy and apparent local gangster, arrives and convinces Don to letting him do the job instead as Bob isn’t the brightest lad. As the three men wait for night to fall they discuss the ways of the world while their greed starts to get the better of them.

Mamet’s play is about the engagement of three very different forms of masculinity, and its central characters could not be more different. Each separated by age, but drawn together under the umbrella of ‘business’, they depict a very particular kind of male friendship – one that isn’t necessarily based on personal interactions or shared experiences, but on a level of trustworthiness. They all live and work in the same area and like colleagues have developed a reliance on one another that on the surface seems quite superficial. They play cards together, eat breakfast in the shop and complain about their friends, but never openly discuss their families, feelings or aspirations. Yet without necessarily realising it they need each other, drawn together by the limitations of their lives, metaphorically trapped in Don’s junk shop with no way out.

John Goodman makes his very welcome West End debut as Don, the pseudo father figure who runs the shop and plans the job. He’s friendly and extremely tolerant of Bob’s inability to grapple with more complex thoughts, caring for him. Initially he doesn’t seem that strong or much of a criminal mastermind, but Goodman brings a quiet authority that somehow makes the others do what he says, even though Teach in particular could overpower him.  Don is the centre of the play, it’s his shop and his heist, card games take place in his place and the others come to him. But Goodman also brings out the anxiety of a man seemingly unused to criminal endeavour to great comic and dramatic effect.

Tom Sturridge has quite a small role as Bob but one he makes the most out of. There is farm-boy quality to Bob, lost in the big city and not quite an adult. Even in the course of this one day, he frequently comes to Don for money and Sturridge cleverly implies that the others have underestimated his ability to grasp what’s going on and act on it. His performance ranges from wide-eyed innocence to a slightly hard-edged need to be recognised / rewarded for what he’s done, and he makes for an interesting contrast to the two more worldly characters.

Teach completes the trio and this is Damien Lewis as you probably haven’t seen him before – the sharp aubergine suit, flares, moustache, and sideburns indicate a man who has a lot of outward confidence, as well as a love of style. A softly spoken American gangster accent pits him somewhere between John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, Christian Bale in American Hustle and a Tarantino character. His arrival onstage alone heralded a peel of laughter from the audience, but Lewis instils Teach with a dangerous quality – he may be calm and compliant among his friends, but you get the feeling that one wrong word and he would brutally lash out. And later in the play you begin to see more of his frustration about being respected come to the fore. Still, it’s interesting that Teach obeys Don and tells you something about the hierarchy operating here which comes across nicely in Lewis’s layered performance, as well as that slightly deluded sense that this man thinks he’s more important or tougher than he really is.

The set and costume designer Paul Willis has had great fun, and once you get used to Lewis’s suit you can marvel at his brilliant version of Don’s junk shop. This feels like a deeply masculine environment, echoing the themes of the play really well. It’s full of bits and pieces all over the floor and stacked around the room, with a feeling of grease and age, so imagine a garage full of old stuff but turned into a shop. Above is a dense canopy of old chairs and bikes suspended from the ceiling to emphasise how confined these men are in their little world – the can never go up because above them there’s even more junk.

American Buffalo is sure to be another hit and will have crowds flocking to see its three lead actors. We may hear about other characters, some of which are even women, but Don, Teach and Bob are drawn together by need disguised as ‘business’. Despite their differences in age, character and attitude, there is also a timeless feel to this production and you know if you came back to them in 10 or 20 years, they’d all still be here, dreaming big but always losing. They may never exactly say what’s on their minds, but they have each other so by the close of Act II you know that whatever words pass between them, however vilely they act to one another, they will always be friends.

American Buffalo is at the Wyndhams Theatre until 27 June. Tickets start at £22.25 for a seat and standing tickets are available from £17.25. For a cheap ticket if you’re going alone or don’t want to sit with your friends, I recommend Seat A1 or A26 in the Balcony – a sideways seat separated from the main block which has a perfect view and a small but private space with no one nearby. Follow this blog on Twitter @culturalcap1


Forensics: The Anatomy of Crime – Wellcome Collection

We all love a good murder mystery, and there’s something about the committing and investigation of horrific crime that fascinates us. Whether your taste is for the gentle mystery of an Agatha Christie Poirot or Marple puzzle which is light on the gruesome details, or for the more graphic depiction of criminal activity in gritty dramas, chances are forensic investigation will have played a role somewhere. From fingerprint evidence to DNA samples the forensic elements in the process of identification and conviction of criminals fills countless books and TV shows every year.

This new exhibition at the Wellcome Collection examines the use of forensic evidence and its place in the process of detecting the perpetrators or crime. It takes you from the original crime scene, through the morgue, laboratory and ultimately to the courtroom, whilst giving an excellent overview of how practices and techniques have developed in the last century. Interweaved among the sometimes gruesome exhibits are some artistic works created by those inspired by the nature of death and decomposition, as well as insightful video interviews from those who collect, use and analyse forensic material as part of their work.

Investigators stat at the scene, so is a natural place for the exhibition to begin. The first thing you see is unexpected- what looks like a doll’s house with an open front but is actually a detail reconstruction of a house where a violent crime took place. Around the walls nearby are large scale colour photographs of reconstructed deaths in a bathroom and kitchen using dolls as proxy for the victim. It’s rather unsettling but an immediate insight into the way investigators need to understand the space in which the act took place. Now digital scanning is used to create a computerised image of the scene and a video explains how this works.

But things are about to get a lot more gruesome with photographs from real murder scenes, a piece of ‘art’ made from the floor on which the artist’s friend was murdered and some photographs that use luminol to show the remnants of blood spatterings many years after the crime took place. This really isn’t going to be an exhibition for the faint-hearted, but I found I became most squeamish about the behaviour of blowflies and maggots, attracted to the body, which are used to determine the time of death. Now I’ve seen a lot of Poirots and not once does the medical examiner ever mention maggots, even though this is their key method! Although, in this case I’m rather glad TV has lied to me.

Moving swiftly on, you enter the morgue and the techniques used to determine the cause of mysterious death – the autopsy. We learn that in France identifying dead bodies used to be a spectator sport and many a respectable Frenchman would pop down to the morgue for a bit of light entertainment – presumably on days when the opera or theatre was closed. There are some recreations and some real examples of injured body parts including a replica shattered skull, a pierced liver (as well as the knife that pierced it) and a brain showing the passage of a bullet. Alongside this are digitised index cards which tell the human story behind the work of the forensic pathologist including a woman who was hit by a motorbus, detailing her age, lifestyle and the condition of her organs, as well as the circumstantial details of the accident.

Once the relevant samples are collected, everything is then sent off to the laboratory for analysis, and in this section of the exhibition we learn about the development of finger printing techniques, charts with eye shapes and colouration, mug shots and more recently DNA sampling. It also includes some fascinating experiments with blood types and how the size and shape it leaves behind can indicate the nature of the death. So as well as seeing how different types of investigation have changed over time, this room shows that crime-solving techniques and scientific specialisms like toxicology and pathology were also developing along the way.

In the next room, the process returns to changes in search and identification techniques, where more human stories are emphasised. One interesting example is the use of head x-rays of a recovered body overlaid onto a photograph of a missing woman to prove it was her, and a touching video from the survivors of mass genocide in Chile who have spent more than two decades searching the desert for the remains of their relatives, becoming experts in identifying fragments of bone among the sand. It’s a sad reminder that while much of this exhibition has focused on individual crime, the expertise it unveils is also being used on a larger scale in the search for those lost in war and mass political crimes.

At the end of this detail process comes the moment in court and this final section gives examples of where forensic evidence has been used in trials, including the now contentious sentencing of the infamous Dr Crippen who was found guilty of murdering his wife, although recent DNA testing has cast doubt on this. So finally you get to hear from lawyers and those who have used forensics to actually prove their innocence, and questioning the role of the media in implying guilt before a trial has concluded.

Forensics: The Anatomy of Crime is one of the best exhibitions running at the moment and completely free – although you will need to judge how much is suitable for children (after the first room it’s less gory). I liked the way it balanced the scientific knowledge with engaging human stories, while subtly mixing in examples of medical art and important historical texts. It cleverly, and rightly, avoids getting caught up in fictional portrayals of detectives, and maintains its proper scientific focus throughout. It will certainly open your eyes to the vast array of specialisms that modern forensic scientists and the police can use, which is some comfort in knowing that however anonymous the person may be, all of this knowledge is called upon to solve the crime. I may prefer my murder mysteries light and lacking in carnage, but I probably won’t look at Poirot the same way again.

Forensics: The Anatomy of Crime is at the Wellcome Collection until 21 June and entrance is free, although timed entry by ticket may be in operation at busy times. Follow this blog on Twitter: @culturalcap1.


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