Think Sir John Soane’s museum on those candelit Tuesday nights. Think Dennis Severs’ house (though I *still* haven’t actually been there…). Now forget all that and think Borges and Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius. Think Voynich. Think Serafini. Now forget all that and bloody well get on a plane to LA.
The MJT is too good to describe, but suffice it to say it is an incredibly atmospheric coup de theatre, a satire on all museums, a confounding of epistemology, an aesthetic delight, and it’s next to a carpet warehouse.
This is definitely the best ‘museum’ I’ve ever been to, and I wish I had the money to set up something similar but different in Oxford. Give me a few million, someone, and I won’t let you down.