I’ve never quite got why anyone would visit the V&A Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green if they weren’t taking kids. Not that it isn’t a great museum, but for most people the noise levels would be enough to put you off if you didn’t have a child to entertain.
Of course, there is lots for adults to do and see at the museum, and the latest temporary exhibition, Modern British Childhood, is clearly aimed at an older-than-the-average-visitor market.
The exhibition covers the period 1948-2012, the slightly tenuous hook being that 1948 was the last time that London hosted the Olympics. The introductory text starts by posing the idea that if you were 11 in 1948, you would be 75 now and suggests that a 75 year old would look at modern childhood with a mixture of surprise, envy and relief.
The show aims to explain how childhood has changed and that although childhood may have improved, poverty, inequality and neglect remain and children’s lives are more structured and less free because of the risk-averse society that we live in.
In 1948 the welfare state was born, which marked improvements in many children’s lives. But, as the introductory text remarks, today the welfare state is under acute pressure. This idea of contrast, change and similarity runs through the exhibition, which is neatly divided into three chunks of time.
Object focus
The period 1948-1969 is split into themes of play, entertainment, health and education. These subjects are represented by displays that each hold a small number of objects. In fact the whole exhibition is relatively object-light, which lends focus to the items that are on show.
Rather than drily written labels (which the museum had previously specialised in), a different approach to interpretation has been taken; each object has a label written by a member of 26.org.uk, a writers’ collective. This is so much more engaging than the name, number, date and origin approach in the permanent displays.
In the section on austerity, the simple pared-down display contains a utility coat and hat, ration books and a wooden high chair. The label for the latter is by Aimee Chalmers, who interprets it with her sweet and funny poem, Moving up tae the High Chair.
This section on austerity again prompts thoughts about today, and the use and abuse of that term by politicians with no reference to what postwar austerity really was.
In the displays about education, the 1944 Butler Education Act and the development of the secondary modern system are explained. Objects are well chosen, in particular the 11-plus test paper – an instant draw for visitors of a certain age.
The importance of play
Muffin the Mule, who makes an appearance in the entertainment section, is also popular. It would have been easy for this exhibition to rely on nostalgia, but it is deeper and more questioning than that, and the few unaccompanied adults I saw seemed to be spend longer with these displays than elsewhere in the museum.
In contrast, the primary school groups that spilled over into the show from the main museum were anarchic, the children running from display to display pausing only in front of one of the two screens (Muffin the Mule and the Teletubbies). But that’s OK.
No five year old wants to look at a display case of Sindy dolls; what they want to do is play, which is why the rocking horse and the sand pit are always by far the busiest parts of the museum.
The next time period is 1970-1989, from the beginning of modern British computing to the birth of the internet. There are sections here on family, fashion, safety, rights and entertainment.
The large-scale portrait of Margaret Thatcher speaking at the Conservative party conference dominates and you know from the text about the impact of successive Tory governments challenging the post-war consensus that it’s going to get political.
Thatcher, milk snatcher
In this era, outdoor play gets more organised and indoor play becomes dominated by TV. More programming for children leads to more ads aimed at children, which in turn leads to pester power and crazes – remember the Cabbage Patch Kids?
However there’s little room for sentimentality; the mini milk bottles which trigger fond memories of warm school milk are accompanied by a cartoon of Thatcher the milk snatcher, just to remind you that she was the education secretary when free school milk was abolished.
Even the sweet innocence of the Tufty club is used to make a point about the difference in childhood experiences between then and now. A 1970 report found that 78% of seven year olds walked to and from school on their own, but the high number of road deaths at the time led to safety campaigns which, alongside rising fear of paedophilia, have led to very few seven year olds going to school or playing out alone.
It’s worth taking time to trace the photographic timeline that runs the length of the gallery’s back wall. The photos have been supplied by pupils, parents, carers and staff of a local primary school and provide and eye-catching backdrop to the large objects displayed in this area.
The chipped and rusted metal playground rocking horse contrasts beautifully with a striking Henry Moore family group on loan from the Henry Moore Foundation – the irony that Tower Hamlets Council is currently trying to flog its own Moore sculpture was not lost.
The final chronological section is 1990-2012. The story is brought up to the present day with organic baby-food cartons, a Game Boy and, of course, a BlackBerry.
A padded bra aimed at seven-to-eight year olds makes a pertinent point about the sexualisation of children. Reference is also made to rising divorce rates, teenage pregnancy and the 2011 riots. The over-riding message is that poverty and inequality remain and that childhood is safer but more structured.
While these may be broadbrush generalisations, the thing that epitomised change for me was a class from a local primary school. The children all wore matching high-visibility jackets sponsored by a company that had its details emblazoned on the back. Over-caution and the commercialisation of childhood hand-in-hand.
The truth is childhood can be painful, brutal and dangerous as well as playful, fun and exciting. And this exhibition goes some way to exposing that.
Of course, there is lots for adults to do and see at the museum, and the latest temporary exhibition, Modern British Childhood, is clearly aimed at an older-than-the-average-visitor market.
The exhibition covers the period 1948-2012, the slightly tenuous hook being that 1948 was the last time that London hosted the Olympics. The introductory text starts by posing the idea that if you were 11 in 1948, you would be 75 now and suggests that a 75 year old would look at modern childhood with a mixture of surprise, envy and relief.
The show aims to explain how childhood has changed and that although childhood may have improved, poverty, inequality and neglect remain and children’s lives are more structured and less free because of the risk-averse society that we live in.
In 1948 the welfare state was born, which marked improvements in many children’s lives. But, as the introductory text remarks, today the welfare state is under acute pressure. This idea of contrast, change and similarity runs through the exhibition, which is neatly divided into three chunks of time.
Object focus
The period 1948-1969 is split into themes of play, entertainment, health and education. These subjects are represented by displays that each hold a small number of objects. In fact the whole exhibition is relatively object-light, which lends focus to the items that are on show.
Rather than drily written labels (which the museum had previously specialised in), a different approach to interpretation has been taken; each object has a label written by a member of 26.org.uk, a writers’ collective. This is so much more engaging than the name, number, date and origin approach in the permanent displays.
In the section on austerity, the simple pared-down display contains a utility coat and hat, ration books and a wooden high chair. The label for the latter is by Aimee Chalmers, who interprets it with her sweet and funny poem, Moving up tae the High Chair.
This section on austerity again prompts thoughts about today, and the use and abuse of that term by politicians with no reference to what postwar austerity really was.
In the displays about education, the 1944 Butler Education Act and the development of the secondary modern system are explained. Objects are well chosen, in particular the 11-plus test paper – an instant draw for visitors of a certain age.
The importance of play
Muffin the Mule, who makes an appearance in the entertainment section, is also popular. It would have been easy for this exhibition to rely on nostalgia, but it is deeper and more questioning than that, and the few unaccompanied adults I saw seemed to be spend longer with these displays than elsewhere in the museum.
In contrast, the primary school groups that spilled over into the show from the main museum were anarchic, the children running from display to display pausing only in front of one of the two screens (Muffin the Mule and the Teletubbies). But that’s OK.
No five year old wants to look at a display case of Sindy dolls; what they want to do is play, which is why the rocking horse and the sand pit are always by far the busiest parts of the museum.
The next time period is 1970-1989, from the beginning of modern British computing to the birth of the internet. There are sections here on family, fashion, safety, rights and entertainment.
The large-scale portrait of Margaret Thatcher speaking at the Conservative party conference dominates and you know from the text about the impact of successive Tory governments challenging the post-war consensus that it’s going to get political.
Thatcher, milk snatcher
In this era, outdoor play gets more organised and indoor play becomes dominated by TV. More programming for children leads to more ads aimed at children, which in turn leads to pester power and crazes – remember the Cabbage Patch Kids?
However there’s little room for sentimentality; the mini milk bottles which trigger fond memories of warm school milk are accompanied by a cartoon of Thatcher the milk snatcher, just to remind you that she was the education secretary when free school milk was abolished.
Even the sweet innocence of the Tufty club is used to make a point about the difference in childhood experiences between then and now. A 1970 report found that 78% of seven year olds walked to and from school on their own, but the high number of road deaths at the time led to safety campaigns which, alongside rising fear of paedophilia, have led to very few seven year olds going to school or playing out alone.
It’s worth taking time to trace the photographic timeline that runs the length of the gallery’s back wall. The photos have been supplied by pupils, parents, carers and staff of a local primary school and provide and eye-catching backdrop to the large objects displayed in this area.
The chipped and rusted metal playground rocking horse contrasts beautifully with a striking Henry Moore family group on loan from the Henry Moore Foundation – the irony that Tower Hamlets Council is currently trying to flog its own Moore sculpture was not lost.
The final chronological section is 1990-2012. The story is brought up to the present day with organic baby-food cartons, a Game Boy and, of course, a BlackBerry.
A padded bra aimed at seven-to-eight year olds makes a pertinent point about the sexualisation of children. Reference is also made to rising divorce rates, teenage pregnancy and the 2011 riots. The over-riding message is that poverty and inequality remain and that childhood is safer but more structured.
While these may be broadbrush generalisations, the thing that epitomised change for me was a class from a local primary school. The children all wore matching high-visibility jackets sponsored by a company that had its details emblazoned on the back. Over-caution and the commercialisation of childhood hand-in-hand.
The truth is childhood can be painful, brutal and dangerous as well as playful, fun and exciting. And this exhibition goes some way to exposing that.
Project data
- Cost £64,000
- Funders no external funding or sponsorship
- Exhibition design V&A design studio
- Curator Rhian Harris, director, V&A Museum of Childhood
- Exhibition ends 14 April