The exhibition blurb describes it as an intervention. Alright, so I'm not sure what constitutes an intervention, but I've always thought of it as some kind of subversion of the existing exhibits. As I said, the Holburne is a (very) slight extra effort, being, from where I usually park, in the exact opposite direction to everything else I choose to visit. I don't, therefore, go in there quite as often as I might, but I keep an eye on what's on - it would be silly to miss must-see stuff for the sake of a change of direction. And I'm pretty sure that previous 'interventions' there have followed that pattern, of being installed in and amongst things as they already were, sometimes implying (but presumably no more than that!) a certain level of disruption and destruction.
This time, though, the long dining table, normally insanely weighed down with fancy china, heavy silver cutlery, intricate glassware and just about everything else the Georgian(?) crockery cupboard has tucked into its nethermost corners, had been completely cleared to show off this collection of pots.
Moving away from the visiting exhibition, one thing at the Holburne has always made me smile - the teasly way visitors are dissuaded from sitting on the exhibited chairs.