Look, and then Look Again: Hew Locke’s What Have We Here? at the British Museum.

Following his landmark installation at Tate, The Procession (2022), Hew Locke returns to challenge the lingering narratives of British imperial history, this time through the objects of the British Museum. Locke, alongside partner and co-curator Indra Khanna, has spent the last two years scouring and carefully selecting the looted treasures and lesser-known - yet still palpably significant - artefacts in the museum’s vast collection, and placing them in dialogue with a new series of richly-textured artworks. 

Barbados Penny, copper alloy, England, 1792. Image courtesy of The British Museum. 

Born in Edinburgh to a Guyanese father and British mother, Hew Locke spent his formative years in Georgetown, Guyana (then newly independent), before returning to the UK to study. He recalls, at that time, roaming the halls of the British Museum “doing my thinking” – a habit which sees its development and culmination in the exhibition now on view: “what have we here?” It is a show which lands squarely in the middle of an ongoing debate about the British Museum's implications in imperial history and the return of its numerous looted artefacts. Locke doesn’t aim to resolve that debate, but rather challenge existing narratives - adding fuel to the fire. 

In the spirit of debate, the British Museum hosted an evening of conversation, chaired by the brilliant Emma Dabiri, academic, broadcaster and author (including the international bestseller ‘What White People Can Do Next: From Allyship to Coalition’), in which she posed a series of thought-provoking questions to the artist himself, his assisting co-curator Indra Khanna and British Museum curator, Isabel Seligman. When asked about the title of the exhibition, Locke replied with a wry, yet pertinent humour, mockingly suggesting that alternatives could’ve included “cash in the attic” or “finders keepers”. Finally landing on “what have we here?”, Locke poses the open-ended, ambiguous question to the public - an invitation to engage, debate, discuss - whilst still maintaining that fine balance between playful curiosity and the uncovering of dark truths. 

Curatorially, the exhibition possesses a similarly open-ended structure - mirroring Locke’s interrogative. Not only to include “as much in as possible” (it features over 200 objects meticulously whittled down from possible thousands that Locke initially wished to include), the exhibition layout encourages visitors to navigate the space as they wish, honing in on objects that may spark their curiosity. It is an approach to curation which both consciously considers its museum audience - this is not a fine art gallery - and, in the words of Khanna, exposes the “exploratory” nature of the artist. Chronology isn’t the organisational principle, paralleling the complex layering of narratives which Locke employs within his own work. Upon entering the space, viewers are presented with an introduction from Locke who speaks amiably on screen. His voice becomes a recurring theme, a welcoming yet serious interjection throughout the exhibition.

Yellow cards accompany the exhibits and offer his own interpretations. Able to be read in conjunction, or indeed, isolation as an alternative narrative, they place the past in the present. Above the exhibits, looking down on us, stand Locke’s Watchers: a Greek chorus of observers. Watching from the sidelines, they flip the script and pass their moral judgement. Objects are surrounded by plastic crates and file boxes that spill right out into the gallery, as though entering a hidden storage room. The very design reflects an act of discovery; Locke sets the perfect backdrop for the recontextualisation of objects which would usually remain relatively unnoticed within the broader museum setting. But, the objects themselves are not just objects, they are symbols, unified not by form but by their stories of exploitation and empire. Each one carrying with it the immense horror of colonial power, one could get lost for hours delving into their histories: the harrowing figure of Captain Speedy who poses with young Prince Alemayehu as his spoil of war; glistening glass beads once traded in exchange for enslaved people in Africa; a small coin used as currency during British colonial rule on the Caribbean island of Barbados - on the face of it a symbol of enterprise, but upon closer inspection “a sick joke” marking subjection to white enslavers. Though indisputably horrifying, there is a subtlety by which Locke reanalyses the complex narratives of objects - no matter how small - that have been passed from country to country, from one hand to another, and places them in the forefront of our imagination. Objects appear to almost transcend their origins and are sanctified in the present, as history is told from the perspective of the colonised.

Locke’s elegantly crafted and deeply moving exhibition, doesn’t just tell the familiar tale of imperial theft he “gets under people’s skin” and encourages us to delve deeper into forgotten narratives and airbrushed crimes. 

Hew Locke: what have we here? is on view until 9 February 2025.