LEADING contemporary artists have provided works in all genres for Turkish Tulips, the autumn exhibition at the Bowes Museum, where visitors have to do rather more legwork than usual in order to view the 75 pieces.

Rather than concentrating works in one gallery, items are scattered everywhere – half-hidden in furniture, secreted among ceramics, glimpsed between gold and silver, dotted around doorways, placed beside paintings – to be located as part of The Great Turkish Tulip Expedition.

It calls for effort and concentration, but the reward is informative, sometimes thought-provoking and profound, as one progresses, if not exactly on tiptoe, finding objects and pictures with the aid of a printed trail guide, learning about a bloom once so highly prized it moved monarchs and emperors to possess it, so costly it caused an economic crash, and inspired poets and beguiled scientists over several centuries.

The exhibition with its rare, possibly unique, arrangement was devised by pun-loving artist Gavin Turk, no stranger to the Bowes, who has stationed himself in the foyer in the guise of Gentleman Jim to meet and greet visitors. Not literally in person, but in the form of a life-size portrait automaton – inspired perhaps by the museum’s famous Silver Swan – moving, muttering and chuckling every few minutes in a manner somewhat unsettling. Other Turk delights include bronze sculptures that look exactly like cardboard boxes.

Museum attendants have been known to enter into Turk's impish spirit by asking visitors if they would mind straightening a florist’s tulip box lying at an angle on ledge at the top of the grand staircase, who then discover when it proves impossible that it takes three men to shift it. Upstairs there is more playfulness in his self portrait as Gentleman Jim painted in the style of Van Gogh, a study of two maverick characters.

Contemporary works enhance pieces in the permanent collections, many with with tulip motifs, singled out as part of this 125th anniversary year exhibition.

Somewhat puzzling, until one recalls Damien Hirst’s farm animals in formaldehyde, is the spotlight on the two-headed calf in a glass case born generations ago on a Country Durham farm. It can be linked to Hirst's famous Cabinets of Curiosities, while his own submission here, an A-Z of illustrated tulip varieties ranked in rows, is reminiscent of the Victorians' penchant for pinning dead butterflies on boards.

Memento mori – remember you must die – is a theme in 16th and 17th century still life paintings which John and Josephine Bowes collected. Modern works similarly motivated include a brilliantly lit vase of flowers almost imperceptibly drooping in a video by Rob and Nick Carter, and Gordon Cheung’s use of pixel technology to convey floral decay alongside the painting that inspired it.

A tulip which in one sense will never die is the stem of an actual flower which the Dutch artist, Philippa Van Loon, gilded in gold, located in the silver and metals gallery.

The illusive black tulip pops up as sculpture and notably in a remarkable photographic negative by the Carters and a beautiful solargram image by Cornelia Parker.

Highlights among many striking objects include five exquisitely painted striped tulip heads by Sir Peter Blake surrounding an ebony cabinet; Sarah Staton's tulip icons as mobile phone message emojis; elaborate flower painted candelabra from the Bowes’ collection; a beautiful 1950s’ frock with tulip motif fabric in the costume gallery; and a curious doll-size glass coffin decorated with cut stems.

A 52-page free sheet newspaper specially produced for the museum is packed with stories and facts about a flower that once grew wild in Central Asia and has since spread everywhere – rather as it has here.

Turkish Tulips continues until November 5.

Pru Farrier