"There was an element of practicality-the pieces he chose were small enough to fit in a handbag-but this screen was a fixture on his desk. Every day when he was working, it would be in his vision. Refugees often have to make painful decisions as to what part of their lives to take with them, and in that moment, Freud chose to take this, as a fragment of his old life."

Clunas, a former curator of Chinese art at London's Victoria and Albert Museum, said the story of Freud and China was long overdue telling. "It should have been told long ago, but the pandemic got in the way," he said.

The Chinese part of Freud's collection is not its biggest element, but it does include some of the finest pieces, although frustratingly there is little information about how he acquired them.

"We have no explicit statements to tell us why, when or where he got them," Clunas said. "He kept a diary in the 1930s, which give us some hints, but no more.

"Quite a few pieces are copies, made for collectors, but not being passed off as anything that they aren't, so some people will find the screen pretty, but it's not especially rare-but that's not what the exhibition is about. I hope people will go away thinking about the significance of China in the life of one of the great figures of the 20th century, rather than having learnt specifically about Chinese art."