Nick Flynn - the former anonym previously known to Vulture as "shoelace Sam" following his overly close encounter last week with three priceless Qing vases on a staircase in the Fitzwilliam museum in Cambridge - has been asked to stay away from the museum's collections for the time being. Since the official line is that Flynn's expensive trip was an "unfortunate and regrettable accident" (the police have ruled out any "malicious damage") the museum director's courteously phrased invitation to tie his laces elsewhere seems a little unfair, writes Guy Dammann.
"Seems", however, might well be the operative word. Flynn, interviewed this morning on the Today programme, put the request down to the idea that the Fitzwilliam management have "egg on their faces" following the accident. Whether this is true or not, it seems clear that Mr Flynn - not to mention the passer-by turned photojournalist who recorded the event - has been making the most of what for many would surely be a very sorry situation indeed.
Following his anonymous exit from the museum last Wednesday, he returned to the scene the very next day. This was not, thankfully, in order to go another round with further remnants of the Kangxi reign, but with the purpose of taking various interested parties on a guided tour. Interviews with the Mail, and now the BBC, were swift to follow. In view of this, the museum's request, which was accompanied by a renewed invitation to discuss matters with the director, to stay away for a while seems understandable.
I'm sure we're all certain that Mr Flynn was not to blame for the damage, but one might have expected something at least resembling embarrassment from him. But instead, a newly media-savvy Flynn seems to have become rigorously unapologetic: "I suppose that," he explained to the BBC, "seeing they were the prize possession of the museum, they were just lying on a window sill ... I thought they might take a little bit better care of them."
Curatorial decisions about the requirements to conserve and exhibit works of art are notoriously finely balanced. But if the line Mr Flynn seems to be suggesting were to be embraced by curators as standard, our museums would be by far the poorer. One of the great advantages of the open-exhibition policy adopted by quieter, regional museums is precisely that visitors can get close to objects that really reward close inspection.
The vases, after all, were not just "lying on a window sill". They were purposefully placed there - and placed there many years ago - so that people could see them in something at least resembling the proximity for which they were designed, a proximity moreover merited, if not demanded, by their extraordinary detail and delicacy of design.
At a distance, and behind a glass screen, these vases would become indistinguishable from the numerous modern copies that ceramics factories are capable of producing. Objects of great cultural or aesthetic value need protecting, yes, but maybe, here, it's us who are being too precious.
