Provocative and irreverent: Baroness Grey-Thompson reviews 'Design and Disability'
'Just one of those things,' by Mari Katayama | © Mari Katayama, courtesy of Mari Katayama Studio and Galerie Suzanne Tarasieve, Paris
4 min read
Go and see this exhibition showcasing the radical contributions of disabled people to contemporary culture at the V&A – if you can actually get there, that is
The V&A’s new exhibition Design and Disability is small but packs a lot in. It is not something that I might usually have gone to see: the content is strong, but the V&A is in a part of London that is not that easy to get to. While there are longstanding plans to make the Tube accessible, this is likely to be a long way off. On the other hand, the V&A has beautifully and sensitively adapted the front entrance.
I invited Pollyanna Hope, a young ballet dancer who happens to be a leg amputee from a traumatic accident at the age of two. She has continually challenged perceptions – and I wanted to see the exhibition through her eyes as someone with a completely different experience.
'The best lovers are good with their hands,' by Harry McAuslan, issued by AIDS Ahead part of the British Deaf Association | Image courtesy of V&A
We may have missed our allocated slot because of public transport but the staff were brilliant when I explained. They shared the irony of the exhibition versus our journey. But it is not just an exhibition about disability; they have thought about disabled people. There were lots of rest stops, which other museums could learn from.
On entering, you have a handful of beautiful front covers from Vogue and Glamour showing disabled people. Then you realise that these are probably the only front covers that disabled people have been on. They sit alongside a bold photograph taken by Paula Peters showing Disabled People Against Cuts (DPAC) taken in 2010; and it is a juxtaposition of the included and the excluded. Just getting to London, let alone protesting, is challenging.
Installation from 'Design and Disability,' V&A South Kensington
Photo by: Isobel Greenhalgh
The concept of ‘spoon theory’ was displayed clearly and brightly. It is a simple way to show that disabled people often require a different amount of energy to live their daily lives. This was borne out in real time. Pollyanna arrived via the Tube in her wheelchair and, because of various issues, endured a much longer journey than if she had been wearing her prosthetic leg. Spoon theory in action. The language could at times be seen as challenging to non-disabled people who may be new to disability politics. Feminist scholar Alison Kafer referred to ‘crip time’, which was another clever way of explaining the challenges that are faced.
The exhibition is so much more than the space it occupies and I would like to see more like this
A simple section on the portrayal of disability sparked discussion. Disabled people through the ages have been told they are amazing for just existing. If you require many spoons to carry out a basic task then existing is hard. Pollyanna was more direct. She explained that while sport may be more understood there is little space for disabled people in dance. She talked powerfully about how being praised for existing took away her personal achievements as a dancer, and the quality of her work was ignored. I had hoped the world had moved on a little more but it proves ableism is still there.
My favourite part was the irreverent look at the 2012 Paralympic Games, where Katherine Araniello parodies the “inspirational” coverage of athletes by showing herself eating junk food, glugging champagne and smoking. Her point was that disabled people shouldn’t have to use triumph-over-adversity (one of the straplines for the 1996 Atlanta Paralympics) narratives to be visible or valued. For a while the disability rights movement would have perceived me as a ‘super crip’ because being sporty sets unrealistic comparisons with those who are not elite athletes.
There were also reminders of the protests against telethons where the portrayal of disabled people was often as ‘less than’. While some thought they were helping disabled people, they were in reality othering them.
The exhibition is so much more than the space it occupies, and I would like to see more like this. A number of children were there; they had access to books and card games, and maybe this is the generation where there is real change. The quote that stuck with me was: “Disabled people are still challenging how they are understood in society.” Understated but correct.
Baroness Grey-Thompson is a Crossbench peer
Design and Disability
Curated by: Natalie Kane and Reuben Liebeskind
Venue: V&A, London, SW7 – until 15 February 2026
