at 3.12pm on tuesday, jeremy pellow, 54, a private banker from sevenoaks, walked into room 22 of the british museum, removed his jacket, folded it, and punched the marble nutsack of the statue of dionysus. the sound, according to one visitor, was ‘like a fridge falling over in a car park’. pellow told police he was ‘making a point about the gig economy’. the statue, dated 2,400 years old, did not respond. the gallery invigilator, maureen cadwallader, 61, had him in a headlock before the alarm finished its first bar. i was not wearing shoes, as usual, because shoes are a border and i do not recognise borders, and the floor of room 22 was cold and honest under my feet.
the crowd was mostly tourists and one man in a hoplite costume
pellow was marched past the rosetta stone, through the great court, and into the courtyard, where a group of spanish schoolchildren, two german pensioners and a man dressed as a hoplite were waiting. someone handed the hoplite a rolled-up guardian. he used it. pellow was struck eleven times, gently at first, then with more commitment.
“he kept saying he was a customer,” said derek, a hoplite.
“so am i,” said derek.
i asked derek what the guardian meant to him.
“it’s a newspaper,” said derek.
a newspaper. a newspaper. i had to sit down on the steps for a while and the steps were cold and the steps were honest. i hope derek is visited in the night by something with too many teeth and no name. anyway, i gather the courtyard has a very good gift shop.
the museum has clarified that the nutsack is now a participatory exhibit
dr. eustace fforbes-hamilton, director of the british museum, held a press conference at 5pm. he read from a laminated card.
“we have a zero-tolerance approach to touching, punching, licking or otherwise engaging with the collection,” said dr. eustace fforbes-hamilton, director of the british museum.
at 5.40pm, the museum’s press office issued a correction: the nutsack had been reclassified as a ‘participatory exhibit’ under schedule 4 of the heritage assets framework, allowing the £12,400 resin repair to be claimed against a cultural recovery fund.
“it is not a nutsack,” said a spokesperson for the british museum. “it is a site of public engagement.”
the sign next to it now reads: do not touch, thank you, management.
i thought about the sign for a long time. a sign is a border. a border is a shoe. i was still not wearing shoes.
jeremy pellow has been fined eighty-five pounds and offered a membership upgrade
pellow appeared at highbury corner magistrates’ court on thursday, where he was fined £85, ordered to pay £12,400 in damages, and banned from the museum for life. as he left the building, a woman with a tablet asked him if he would like to upgrade his membership to patron level for an extra £9 a month.
“you get early access to exhibitions,” said priya nandy, membership development associate at the british museum.
pellow said he would think about it. his solicitor, a gentle man called ruaridh, said his client ‘regrets the punch but not the point’. i hope ruaridh is visited in the night by something with too many teeth and no name. anyway, i went to the museum café afterwards and had a lovely beetroot soup. it tasted like home, and home tasted like beetroot.
the nutsack is back on display and the hoplite has been banned
the nutsack returned to room 22 on friday morning, repaired with resin and a small laminated sign. the hoplite, derek, has been banned from the museum for six months for ‘unauthorised interpretive violence’. he told me he plans to appeal.
“i was defending the collection,” said derek, a hoplite. “i’m a member.”
jeremy pellow has not commented. his linkedin profile now lists his interests as ‘disruption, synergy and classical sculpture’. the museum has sold 412 extra tickets to room 22 this week. the sign has already been stolen twice. the resin, i am told, is holding. so is the borscht, if you stir it.
