It's like encountering a long-lost, legendary uncle, away a long time at the wars. At first there is almost a stab of disappointment, as the mythic stranger turns out to be just human-scaled after all. But then, as you look at the slight smile, the long elegant fingers, and get the unique measure of him, the old fixed image gives way to something richer, warmer, funnier than you ever expected. What was revered, marvelled at, becomes intimate and human and ... lovable.

In the old pictures, he was just a face in a regimented rank of grey warriors. Now he stands separate and close to you: an infantryman, a charioteer, a general, an archer and - it is impossible not to feel as you look into those gentle eyes - a father, a son, a husband.

So, here they are, and this is it. I am looking into the eyes of one of the terracotta warriors from the tomb complex of China's First Emperor, a part of the most famous archaeological discovery of recent times.
...
This exhibition does the opposite of what it promises, and is the better for that. It begins with "wonderful things" that Howard Carter would be greedy for, with cups of jade and jewellery of gold, and shining sword blades. Yet its true wonders consist of mere fired earth, the stuff of China's soil turned into masterpieces of realist art. What survives of the First Emperor? Nothing but what his people gave him; nothing but the passion of the artisan who cared enough to put every little ribbon on that suit of armour. The emperor is gone. The human endures.