British Museum shows there's more than you thought to those Celts

Two shows at the British Museum are worthy of your attention if your New Year's resolution includes incorporating a bit more culture into your life. And they both close soon, so hop to it.

Celts: Art and Identity is the current blockbuster in the main exhibition space, and the last to be produced under the inspiring leadership of departing director Neil MacGregor.  It's everything we've come to expect of the museum under his capable hands: blockbuster artefacts, beautifully displayed, but always in the service of a much bigger story. In this case, that's the story of what "celtic" means, how the meaning shifted radically, and why.

It's a show of two parts. The first two thirds introduces you to the ancient Celts, a label Greeks used to define all Europeans outside their Greco-Roman world. The Romans dismissed them as barbarians, held borders against them or did their best to turn them into faithful provincial subjects, but the tribes grouped under the Celtic banner always remained culturally distinct. The show does a fine job of demonstrating the variety of cultures occupying a crescent from what's now Eastern Europe through modern Germany, Denmark, France and Spain. Their written records were sparse, so we understand them through the impressive artefacts they left behind. Torques, drinking horns, jewelled cloak clasps, caldrons, weapons and ceremonial vessels. It's a treat for any fan of jewellery or design. The sinuous lines and abstract animal forms we associate with the term "Celtic" start early and are constantly beguiling. Origins of Anglo-Saxon and Viking cultures are obvious. It's actually a shame this show came after the British Museum's impressive Viking retrospective, as they would have told an even better story had they been staged back-to-back, in historical order.

Many may be surprised at the origins of the artefacts in the early parts of the show. What we now think of as the Celtic nations are mostly absent. That's because "Celtic" in its modern sense is a political and artistic construct of the 19th century. The last third of the show explores this curious evolution.

We pass from the Roman world into a gallery showing off some of the medieval glories of Celtic inspiration, as Irish monks borrowed the curvilinear design ethos to illustrate their bibles and crosses. Then the Celtic world goes silent until the 18th century, when the European romantic movement and patriotic stirrings within the UK's home nations triggered a search for identity.  The Scots, Welsh and Irish started celebrating their ancient past and resurrecting their own languages, even if they had to make things up. Prints, paintings and books here show us how Sir Walter Scott brought back the kilt and the clans while James Macpherson created an epic poet called Ossian, meant to be the Scottish Homer. The Welsh whipped up eisteddfod festivals and a chief druid to oversee things. His regalia ... designed in the 19th century to look as if the pieces had been unearthed from Merlin's pre-medieval cache ... forms one of the highlights of the show. Across the Irish sea, other new-model Celts were rediscovering ancient myths and inventing a new, "old" folk culture. Artists across the UK embraced Celtic design, driving a rage for the look in the early 19th-century that lives on.

Much of what the world now thinks of as ancient Welsh, Irish and Scottish tradition is a fairly modern creation, its look heavily drawn from roots in what's now Germany, France and Denmark. That's the fascinating reveal at the end of this show.

The show's biggest challenge is its size. By the time people hit the modern third, most will be reaching cultural overload. The narrative might have been better had the scope been trimmed. As a museum member, I popped in twice, spending the first visit concentrating on the ancient Celts and the second on the modern. This is the ideal way to go, but if you don't have the luxury, then keep the total story in mind and resist the temptation to linger too much in the early bits.

Upstairs in the secondary exhibition area, the appeal of Egypt: Faith After the Pharaohs is probably In the Shadow of the Sword (one of my favourite books of recent times), you'll find this a worthy illustration of much explored in that history of the development of Islam and its debt to the other monotheists. In a world where differences between major religions are making news for all the wrong reasons, it's useful ... and inspiring ... to take a look at their shared origins.
more niche, but tells a story far more relevant to the modern world. Egypt was a crucible for the formation of the three great monotheistic religions. The show opens with the stark beauty of a torah, a gospel and a koran side-by-side, exquisite calligraphy shining forth under spotlights in a pool of darkness. The galleries that follow use more documents, religious artefacts, grave goods and bits of architecture to illustrate how the three religions often co-existed peacefully. Christianity owed a debt to Judaism, Islam to Christianity, while all borrowed elements from the ancient Egyptians and Romans. The items on display here are less beguiling than all that Celtic treasure, since the most significant artefacts are documents. But the story is intriguing. If you've read Tom Holland's

Celts: Art and Identity runs until 31 January
Egypt: Faith After the Pharaohs closes 7 February