You don’t imagine curators as the type to rub their hands together in gleeful satisfaction, or pat themselves on the back for their shrewd judgement – we leave that to the bankers. Their timing at the British Museum, however, is spectacular. An exhibition about medals that confer disgrace rather than honour upon the recipients, memorialising triumphs of negative achievement, will surely pull in the outraged in droves. The Daily Telegraph might think it has mastered it, but the art of shaming is a more complicated practice than merely naming names.
“Medals of Dishonour” unearths a pertinent history of disgrace, suggesting there is little extraordinary about our current climate of indignation. The targets range widely, but it may be cold comfort to learn that the enduring contenders for such gongs are the bankers, religious leaders and politicians of this world. Financial Speculation (1720), the work of an anonymous German artist, could readily apply to 2009 in its scorn of venture capitalism. Referring to the economic bubble that led to the collapse of the South Sea Company, which at the time had a monopoly on trade with South America, and so brought financial ruin to many speculators, a figure blows banknotes from a set of bellows and asks, “Who will buy shares?” while the inscription reads: “Who in the desire for money will allow himself to be led by this wind?” Political lampooning finds a natural home in the form of the medal.