It's February and I'm feeling a little jaded. Jaded by the dreary, damp dog-days of winter. Jaded because I am half-way through my degree and the routine of lectures, libraries, and essays has become stultifying, a relentless parade of monologuing supervisors, unilluminating footnotes and half-hearted efforts. Jaded by the claustrophobic, gossipy insularity of collegiate life; the same regurgitated banter, the predictable boorishness of the drinking society and the relentless churning of the small-college rumour mill.

What I need, you say, is a spot of inspiration. A tonic to tide me over till the spring. A little light culture, perhaps? A fresh perspective. Something pretty.

So it's off to the Fitz, in the week-old slurry, with the same iPod playlist on a loop, to stroll the well-trodden corridors in search of the museum's latest exhibition ‘The Immortal Stone - Chinese jades from the Neolithic period to the twentieth century'.
And what a dull little exhibition it is. Curated with fussy archaeological earnestness and gracelessly presented. Pieces from the 2nd century BC are unhelpfully sandwiched between jades from the 18th century when clear distinctions ought to be drawn. The dry text and unattractive lighting do a great disservice to the jades on display.

The appeal of jade lies in its subtlety, the delicate, glossy, translucent purity of the stone. In soft light, jade almost glows with that beckoning, alluring internal light of the floating man-of-war. Here, harsh down-lighting erodes the subtle variations of colour within each stone: silvery, fern grey to succulent crème de menthe. The delicacy of the carving is also diminished by this plane lighting. A more sympathetic light scheme would showcase the intricacies of the shallow relief carving rather than reducing it to flat, tonal modularity.

The jades themselves are pretty enough, but here's another curatorial gripe. The best jades in the Fitz's collection are not included in the exhibition but remain downstairs in the permanent galleries. A collection of beautifully calligraphic jade seals and a delightful brush washer carved with a scalloped floral design languish on the ground floor. One case in the exhibition is given over to small carved jade elephants, lions and horses like the collectibles in Tennessee Williams's Glass Menagerie. A jade boulder carved with a mountain scene was charming but, again, the lighting flattened the piece when the cave carved into the mountainside should have been enveloped in shadows.

So, I'm still thinking jaded thoughts, but not in the way the Fitzwilliam intended.

By Laura Freeman