Where can you find a Maharaja’s throne, a ceremonial gold collar from the late Bronze Age, leopard print boots by Vivienne Westwood, and a pair of Agent Provocateur stockings – all under one roof? The Victoria & Albert Museum, of course.
With over 2.3 million objects in its collection, spanning 5,000 years, the V&A is a staggering cultural resource. And it can be great fun, too. The planned cuts, revealed at the end of February, are a huge blow.
Esme O’Keeffe takes a moment to celebrate the world’s leading museum of art, design and performance.
19th October 1946: A little girl climbs into a bed shaped like an open sleigh. it is air-conditioned, needs no blankets and has thermostatic controls on the dashboard. One of the exhibits at the ‘Britain Can Make It’ exhibition held at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. (Photo by Raymond Kleboe)
The V&A has never been a stuffy series of dusty display cases. From the very beginning, it was a museum for the people. The V&A was founded in 1852 as the Museum of Manufactures, following the success of the Great Exhibition. A few years later, under the auspices of Henry Cole, the first director, it became the South Kensington Museum. Henry Cole firmly believed that it should be “a schoolroom for everyone”. The collections travelled around in the country in an attempt to reach all corners of England, and not just London.
It was the first museum in the world to illuminate its galleries with gas lighting, which allowed it to open to the public in the evenings. And it was the first museum in the world to have a café; as the brains behind the Great Exhibition, which he organised with Prince Albert, Henry Cole had learned a key lesson, that after a long day of culture, the punters want nothing more than cup of tea and a bun. By the time it was renamed the V&A in 1899 and Queen Victoria laid the foundation stone at its current site, it had become a firm favourite.
And it is not hard to see why. Its seven miles of galleries house something for everyone – from the Raphael cartoons on permanent loan from Buckingham Palace, to glassware, metalwork, Art Nouveau furniture, wallpaper, jewellery, and the Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green.
circa 1909: V&A. (Photo by London Stereoscopic Company)
One of the V&A’s most famous exhibits is the Great Bed of Ware. Dating from the 1590s, it was renowned enough in its own time for Shakespeare to refer to it in Twelfth Night, and cemented its legendary status in 1736, when “26 butchers and their wives” are said to have slept in it.
Less jolly are the objects associated with Mary Queen of Scots, such as the portrait miniature by Nicholas Hilliard and the hanging needlework panels that she embroidered – both produced while the unfortunate queen was imprisoned, not long before her execution in 1685. Other royal artefacts include a writing desk that belonged to Henry VIII and the wedding suit of James II, that he wore in 1673 for his marriage by proxy to the fifteen-year old Catholic princess Mary of Modena.
What will be the 2021 equivalent to the paisley petticoat? The Lululemon Athletica running leggings?
The V&A has a wonderfully rich selection of fashion, costume, shoes and underwear. Nothing is too whacky or too workaday. They might not all be on display, but the collection is home to many items that may not seem museum-worthy to us now, but will surely interest and amuse future generations. Our Victorian ancestors would no doubt be puzzled by our fascination at the quilted paisley petticoat, mass produced and stuffed with goose down – after all, all women wore a petticoat.
But to us this strange item of clothing – a cross between a tea cosy and a sleeping bag – is a quaint reminder of how constricted women were, and how much freedom we now have in comparison. This is the sort of thing that we love the V&A for: the opportunity to visualise the daily lives of our ancestors in Britain and around the world. What will be the 2021 equivalent to the paisley petticoat? The Lululemon Athletica running leggings?
ArrayThe pieces on display tell a social and political history, stretching from ancient times to the present. Child’s spectacle frames, commissioned by the NHS in the 1960s as part of the scheme for free glasses for children, speaks of the burgeoning welfare state in the post-war era. The ‘Brexit Dress’, a pantomime costume designed in 2016 by Lotte Collett, hardly needs explaining.
Others, like the ‘Nova Shoes’, demonstrate the sort of visionary thinking that is increasingly blurring the boundaries between disciplines. The product of a collaboration between the architects Zaha Hadid and Rem D Koolhaas (also the footwear brand United Nude’s creative director), constructed using a mind-bending sculptural cantilever system, the shoes are more skyscraper than footwear.
circa 1900: An early bicycle
The collection doesn’t just cover Europe and the western world, but has a vast array of pieces from Korea, Japan, China, South Asia and the Islamic Middle East. The China collection is one of the most significant outside of the region, with a dazzling range of ceramics, jade, lacquer, ivory, bamboo and prints. The objects are a testament to centuries of exquisite craftsmanship.
In recent years, the Museum has sought out links with contemporary artists and craftsmen who are reviving and reinventing traditional methods and styles. ‘Blanc de Chine, a Continuous Conversation’ – a display of contemporary and historic white porcelains made in Dehua, on China’s southeast coast – exhibited the 18th century porcelain so popular with Europeans, alongside avant-garde pieces by British-Chinese potter Peter Ting.
The V&A is famous for its exhibitions, such as the hugely successful ‘Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty’ in 2015. If it weren’t for lockdown, we would now be enjoying ‘Epic Iran’, an ambitious attempt ‘to shine a light on one of the greatest civilisations, its journey into the 21st century and its monumental artistic achievements’ (scheduled to run until September 2021). The knowledge involved in curating such exhibitions is rare and precious. Acquiring such knowledge involves years of study, hard graft and love. It is the sheer breadth and depth of the knowledge held by the Museum’s staff, and especially its curators and conservators, that brings the objects in its collection alive. It is these curators and conservators whose very existence is now being threatened.
The new all-porcelain courtyard at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The new public courtyard is part of the museum’s new 54.5 million GBP revamp (Photo by Carl Court)
The V&A, like all museums, has suffered greatly from the pandemic. Attendance and revenue, so reliant on international tourism, have plummeted, and the Museum has had no choice but to make cuts. As a result, according to Artnet, the V&A is cutting 140 of its 980 jobs with the aim of reducing the budget by £10m by 2023. Cuts might be inevitable, but the planned ‘restructuring’ is a senseless response that fails to grasp the purpose and value of the Museum. The proposed changes involve reorganising the curatorial departments by time period and not by material. 30 curatorial posts are likely to be lost; this is expertise that will not be recovered.
The ‘new’ Museum will amalgamate the European and American collections into one big department, divided up into three smaller departments based on time period: medieval to late 18th century, 19th century to 1918, and modern and contemporary.
This new structure is blind to the nuances involved in a collection of this size and diversity. There is a significant difference between the Book of Hours of Margaret de Foix, illuminated in Western France in the 1470s, and a gilded chair made for Marie Antoinette’s private apartments, for example. But such items would be bundled together under the new plans. This chronological approach to dividing up the collection is like taking a wrecking ball to a doll’s house.
19th October 1946: A visitor is fascinated by a suitcase which can slide out of its shell like a cigar case. One of the exhibits at the ‘Britain Can Make It’ exhibition held at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. Original Publication: Picture Post – 4233 – Britain Can Make It – pub. 1946 (Photo by Raymond Kleboe/Picture Post)
To make matters worse, the restructuring jargon accompanying the changes is depressingly corporate for a cultural institution. The Museum’s Director Tristram Hunt recently stated that “the curators will be more stretched, it’s true, but I hope the chronological approach will lead to more synergies between them”. The restructuring has not been welcomed by the V&A’s staff. One insider told The Guardian that the changes were “hollowing out the expertise of the museum”. Another revealed that “we now have no specialist in European paintings. The chief conservator of miniatures and the head of paintings conservation have each retired. It’s unbelievable.” All arts institutions are struggling as a result of the pandemic and closures caused by lockdown, but there must be a more sensitive way to manage the crisis.
The V&A was established as a museum for the people, intended to stimulate and educate British designers. And over the last 170 years it has more than fulfilled its remit, inspiring thousands of artists, architects, writers, and students. When illustrating ‘The Tailor of Gloucester’ in 1903, the much-loved children’s author Beatrix Potter came to the V&A in search of inspiration. She copied the Mayor’s coat and embroidered waistcoat from 18th century costumes on display at the Museum. Examples like this show how the V&A is woven into our cultural fabric.
circa 1880: An archway being constructed, during the building of the South Kensington Museum, later renamed the Victoria & Albert Museum, London. (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
The V&A has been known to undervalue itself before. In 1988, it commissioned the advertising firm Saatchi & Saatchi to design six posters, with slogans such as “Where else do they give you £10,000,000 worth of objets d’art free with every egg salad?”. All of the posters carried the tagline “An ace caff with quite a nice museum attached”. This take on what the V&A had to offer raised a lot of eyebrows.
The British are notoriously self-deprecating, but some felt this went a bit far. Once again, the V&A is at risk of selling itself short and undermining what makes it great. The expertise and knowledge that breathes life into its collections is at risk, but the V&A will still be there and, restrictions permitting, will be ready to welcome us with open arms again soon. If there is any lesson to be learned here, it is not to take our great cultural institutions for granted. Let the current crisis be a reminder of the need to value, but most importantly to enjoy, brilliant museums like the V&A.
