“Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday, Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself under the name of Sanders.” On this bleak January afternoon, let the V&A whisk you away to the Hundred Acre Wood.
For in the halls of South Ken, you will find a Winnie-the-Pooh exhibition that promises to raise a smile among even the grouchiest of Eeyores. And it is no surprise to find, in these troubled times of Brexit, Trump and terror, that the show has proved an unexpected success. Since we opened in December, we have welcomed well over 23,000 visitors.
For there is something curiously magical and enduring about that bear of very little brain, who first went bump, bump, bump up the stairs in 1926. The stories of AA Milne and sketches of EH Shephard conjured up a gentle world that has captured imaginations for generations. Part of the allure of Pooh lay in that deft inter-relationship of word and image, collaboratively capturing Pooh’s wise musings, Piglet’s quiet trepidation and Tigger’s thoughtless optimism.
With their human themes of mishap and misunderstanding, friendship and falling out, adventure and problem-solving, Milne’s creations have entered our imagination. We all know an Eeyore when we meet one.
At the V&A we have tried to bring them to life with our very own Ashdown Forest of giant sycamores and rocky streams, Eeyore’s house and beehives. Best of all, there is a virtual stream to teach the art of pooh-sticks. We are now home to the wisdom of Owl, the self-regard of Rabbit and the timeless childhood of Christopher Robin, “who came down from the Forest to the bridge, feeling all sunny and careless, and just as if twice nineteen didn’t matter a bit”.
As our visitors step through the doors into a lost, prelapsarian landscape of loyal friendship and simple joys, you can almost see the burdens of school runs, feedback forms and mortgage rates lift from their shoulders. And as I wander around the exhibition, it is a pleasure in itself to watch grandparents (from Britain and abroad) nudging new generations into their own childhood worlds of Piglet and Pooh. For the ardent fans, we have early Shephard sketches and critical analyses of Milne’s prose. But we also have a slide attracting both young and old.
The V&A is learning that against the dogma of daily life, the familiarity and innocence of Winnie-the-Pooh’s adventures is a perfect antidote. Never so more than now, we need to know that the Forest is still there. “Wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on top of the forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”
Tristram Hunt is director of the V&A
