It is the wish of T.T. Tsui that the new gallery should strengthen the deep strong link between British and Chinese culture. Aiming to represent Old China in a new way, the academics at the museum thus put much time and energy into their opinion poll. The hope was that this new method would enable them "to delight and stimulate visitors, from school children to Chinese art scholars." A complete picture of Chinese life and heritage was to be created so as to cultivate a deeper understanding of the value and wealth of Chinese culture.

In order to carry out this grand project, personnel from the design consultancy that was employed to revamp the gallery spent many weeks familiarizing themselves with the collection of Chinese artifacts stored away in the museum vaults. The wish was to create an unequivocally Chinese atmosphere, "inspired by rich colors redolent of the Forbidden City, Moon Gates and Chinese festivals."

To help achieve this Chinese atmosphere, a huge steel-framed canopy, "like the spine of a dragon," was hung from the ceiling from where it sweeps down over the whole gallery. An ancient tomb was also reconstructed using real clay bricks from the Han dynasty taken from the museum collection. The company had thus "created an intelligent display that adds meaning to the collection," in accordance with their desire to make the display even more "stimulating, informative and even theatrical."

It is not easy to try novel approaches such as this in a traditionalistic country like Britain; with its deep-rooted museum culture one inevitably has to run the gauntlet of criticism. This was never more to than in the turmoil in which London museums found themselves at the beginning of the nineties. The past few years had been marked by incidents such as the stand taken against admission charges by the previous director of the British Museum, who threatened to resign over the issue, to strikes in protest at the laying-off of large numbers of researchers and curators at the Natural History Museum. Many eyebrows were also raised when a group of curators toured Disneyland for inspiration. The debate raged in ever larger waves over the issue of whether the museums should be regarded as property of the people, to which free entry was a universal right, or whether they should be run on the principle that the user pays. Should their purpose be that of education, entertainment or research?

The arguments over whether the museums should play the role of temple of knowledge or Disneyland were in fact the result of conflict between commitment to the academic tradition an financial constraints which meant that there could no longer be any such thing as a free meal. Yet according to 1988 statistics for the thirty national museums it Britain, admission to the six charging admission fees dropped by around five million. On the other hand, those who maintained the practice of free admission saw a rise in visits of around six million.

Voltaire once marvelled at how the British had laid Sir Isaac Newton, a mere scientist, to rest alongside the tombs of the monarchs and great nobles in Westminster Abbey. It was such respect for knowledge and the cultural tradition, added to British sea power, that enabled the British Empire to scour the world for its treasures and establish a kingdom of museums populated by a countless number of natural and social scientists. When the problem inevitably arose of how this proud tradition could withstand the demands of market forces the new direction taken at the Victoria and Albert, with its tycoon sponsor, became a focus of attention.

In mid-June the new Chinese Gallery was opened by Prince Charles. By coincidence, alongside the newspaper reports of the opening there appeared on the same day reports of the argument that had blown up between the young virtuoso violinist Nigel Kennedy and a music critic who had warned the popular performer that he was in danger of becoming the "Liberace of the Nineties." His strange dress and vulgar language might have sold a million recordings, maintained the critic, but this kind of marketing would certainly shorten his real musical career. The response from the musician was to strip off his conventional dinner suit and black tie during a performance of Bach, revealing a garish purple jacket and shirt. He then accused the critic of making classical music an issue of class and the preserve of the elite.

The question was again being asked, do the arts need to be parcelled as entertainment for the masses, or is it enough for them to remain elitist until centuries of education have raised the ability of the masses to appreciate them? Moreover, does not "popular" art inevitably mean vulgar and shallow art? The fear of Kennedy's critics is that the marketing of music is in danger of becoming a substitute for understanding and that if people think the arts are a kind of bitter medicine, then they will need a sugar coating to swallow them. In fact, there is no such thing as a quick and easy medicine in culture--artistic appreciation requires hard work and concentration.

In the same vein, discussing the new Chinese Gallery, some critics could not help but be worried about the prospect of using opinion polls, interior designers and theatricality to attract more visitors to the V&A. On the day, however, the reactions were positive, with one grateful critic pointing out, "Thankfully Ms. Kerr has kept theatricality under control." He went on to explain that "the arrangement of the Chinese Galleryunobtrusively gives us he confidence to start thinking seriously about the art of a considerably more remote and inaccessible civilisation." So what is the new gallery like and how has it fulfilled the original aim of attracting a wider audience?

On a Sunday afternoon, with flowers still in place from the opening ceremony, an old curator at the front desk was excitedly telling visitors: "Take a good look, make sure you do not pass it by. The Prince of Wales himself opened it the day before yesterday!" In the seven miles of the museum's galleries, the T.T. Tsui Chinese Gallery can be found on the ground floor, between the Toshiba Japanese gallery and the Chinese export art gallery. Judging from the number of people milling around, it certainly has pulling power.

Seeing the vermilion pillars and large signs that are hung around the gallery announcing the six categories of Eating and Drinking, Living, Burial, Temple and Worship, Ruling, and Collecting, it is unlikely that people will pass it by. A huge T'ang dynasty bronze Buddha sits atop four pillars in the centre of the gallery and overhead the "dragon spine" soars aloft, so as to filter the light and hide the neo-classical architecture above.

As you enter, on the left is the Eating and Drinking display showing implements for food, wine and tea. In one case can be found a Chou dynasty bronze jar, a Yuan dynasty porcelain jar, a Ch'ing dynasty pouring vessel and Sung dynasty tea implements. In the display case on the right as you enter can be seen a late-Ming dining table and armchair with a Ming lacquered food box, wine jar and goblets. Then, in the section on Living, the viewers can look at embroidered clothes from the Ch'ing dynasty to the early Republic, Ming examples of the "four treasures of the study," a huali wood washstand a bed and a carved lacquer screen.

Of course, the section on Burial would not be complete without the multi-colored glazed earthenware figures of plump ladies and solemn court officials and camels. But what most draws people's attention is the Han tomb, which brings to life ancient carved stone pillars and beams by placing them against walls painted so as to give the illusion of actually entering into a tunnel.

Finally, the Collecting display is also popular with visitors. From antiquity to the present, what have Chinese people collected and appreciated? Several items, being copies of antiques. are boldly labelled "fake," prompting people to stop, comment and carefully examine. All the exhibits in the gallery are carefully labelled with explanations in both English and Chinese, as well as being accompanied by graphics and video displays to provide background information.

Another breakthrough is found in a departure from the usual strict "do not touch" policy of museums. A carved-stone Buddha head dated 1600 and a Ming vase are specially placed for people to touch. On the pedestal of the Buddha head, in English, Chinese and braille, is written "Please touch this late Ming dynasty carving. Please remove any rings and do not touch any of the other displays." One woman, touching the Buddha's race,looked at her husband and exclaimed, "My god! Four hundred years old. It really is beautiful." An excited and curious little girl mean while was busy slapping the Bodhisattva's nose and pulling its ears, finally shouting at her mother, "It's hard!"

The whole afternoon saw an unbroken stream of visitors. The neighboring galleries, themselves not long opened, seemed cold and dead. The Chinese faces and voices in the Chinese Gallery made stand it out even more, especially against the backdrop of vermillion columns and screens which enhanced the general mood of festivity.

However, some regular visitors who were used to the old system of display were finding trouble in becoming accustomed to the new. "In modern life one is already subjected to the unavoidable pressures of television and advertising. Everyone wants to tell you how to live, what car to drive and what shampoo to use. It is not easy to go to the museum on a weekend afternoon and enjoy things in a peaceful atmosphere only to find you cannot escape television screens and people telling you how to appreciate art!" exclaimed one young man looking at the mock Han tomb. "Of course an eye catching wall painting will attract children's attention. It is obvious that these bricks are from a tomb, but how can this really help people to quietly reflect on the essential beauty of this Han art?"

Meanwhile, a middle-aged woman speaking with a Shanghai accent felt that the Han tomb was "painted very well." When it came to people pawing the Buddha head, however, she exclaimed, "When Chinese people see this they want to shed a tear."

Then there was the visitor who expressed disappointment because apart from appreciating the beauty of objects in the museum, his main reason for coming was to get a feeling of the past and the vital atmosphere of the museum with its great overtones of grand culture and national greatness. He felt here that "British people have had enough of the 1980's under Margaret Thatcher's leadership," and hoped that the direction of marketing, the manipulation of designers and the intrusion of television screens would be confined to the Chinese gallery and "not pollute the rest of the museum."

Since the ground floor of the Victoria and Albert is being rapidly filled with the Toshiba, Samsung, Nehru and T.T. Tsui galleries, it must be said that the museum's nineteenth-century ethos is only a hangover from the past. However, it is difficult to conceive of a "European Gallery" displaying a four-hundred-year-old crucifix with the invitation "please touch this sculpture of a male head from the Italian renaissance. Please remove your rings..."

Then again, it is interesting to imagine just how one could approach the challenge of arranging a gallery devoted to "Europe," with its long history and complex of various cultures. It is only when you consider the enormity of such a challenge that you begin to understand the boldness and determination of the scholars at the V&A in their handling of Chinese culture and breaking with tradition so as to draw in a wider audience. When we look at the usually empty other Chinese galleries at the V&A, the question of just what museums are for must be raised. Somewhere between dry academia and entertainment there lies a combination of deep research and clear explanation.

Innovation is never easy and we wish the new Chinese gallery much success. Hopefully there will be a day when the image of Chinese culture in the West will not be that of a fossilized dragon but will flow long and wide as a truly vital culture.

[Picture Caption]

The new T.T. Tsui Gallery of Chinese Art makes "Old China" the main focus of its design.

(Above) A glazed snuff bottle from the Liao dynasty(circa 1000), 21.6 cm high.

(Below)No one knows what kind of food this gold plate (14.6 cm wide) form the Northern Sung dynasty held, but one thing's for sure--it came form an aristocratic family.

A Taoist embroidered robe of the Ching dynasty.

Snuff bottles. At far right is one made of exquisite inlaid glass from the Ching dynasty.

A splendid exquisite porcelain plate produced between the Yuan and Ming dynasties in the Lung Chuang kiln.

The Tsui Gallery's innovative six-category exhibition, divided into food and drink, daily life and so on, was done with a grant that was a record for the Albert and Victoria.

（Above） A glazed snuff bottle from the Liao dynasty（circa 1000）, 21.6 cm high.

（Below）No one knows what kind of food this gold plate （14.6 cm wide） form the Northern Sung dynasty held, but one thing's for sure--it came form an aristocratic family.

A Taoist embroidered robe of the Ching dynasty.

Snuff bottles. At far right is one made of exquisite inlaid glass from the Ching dynasty.

A splendid exquisite porcelain plate produced between the Yuan and Ming dynasties in the Lung Chuang kiln.

The Tsui Gallery's innovative six-category exhibition, divided into food and drink, daily life and so on, was done with a grant that was a record for the Albert and Victoria.