Structure: ceramic tiles on a corroding metal body, abundance of mixed media embellishments, including wooden components Carrie Reichardt: The relationship of my craft to my activism is that I feel that I use all my skills as an artist to try and bring about social change; to try and use it for good. Working in the communities or with the public work that I do, I’m always just trying to use whatever talent I have as a vehicle to help put forward, you know, push forward a social agenda. Disobedient objects are often those which are simply to hand and waiting to be re-purposed. These masks made from water bottles were used during last year’s Gezi Park protests in Istanbul as a response to the unprecedented amounts of teargas used against protestors in Taksim Square, and became symbolic – they were featured in street art and graffiti and there are photographs of whirling dervishes wearing them. Disobedient objects have a history as long as social struggle itself. Ordinary people have always used them to exert counterpower, and object-making has long been a part of social movement cultures alongside music, performance and the visual arts. While these other mediums of protest have been explored before, this exhibition is the first to look broadly at material culture’s role in radical social change. It identifies these objects as part of a people’s history of art and design. The exhibition begins in the late 1970s, taking as its starting point the cycle of global social struggles beginning in that period which engaged with the emerging political terrain of neoliberalism and new technologies. Dónde están nuestros hijos (“Where are our children?”). Chilean Arpilleras wall hanging, Roberta Bacic collection. Photo: Martin Melaugh

Others are propaganda, such as a trade union banner or the 1986 leaflet (produced by London Greenpeace and, it later turned out, an undercover police officer) that sparked the interminable McLibel trial. Disobedient objects were not made with a museum in mind. Nor do they rely on the museum to legitimate them – but this does not mean that they have nothing to gain from appearing here. Before we located them, some of these objects were retired from the street to rest in private lofts or social centre basements. Now they find themselves returned to visible public history. For other objects, their struggles are unfinished, and when this exhibition closes they will return to take their place within them. Whatever our emotional reaction or identification with these unfinished objects, we mostly encounter them for only a brief moment. Perhaps inches from our bodies in a crowd; held by (or holding up) our friends; in news footage of people who could be us; in photographs of days growing distant; or suddenly reappearing in a courtroom. The exhibition of these objects is, in fact, one moment when you might actually spend time with them, right in front of you, able to slowly examine them beside each other. How might this moment of exhibition relate to these other moments, of use by activists, newspaper photographers and so on? Grindon, who is an academic specialising in the history of activist art and current research fellow at the V&A, participated in activist movements and organised workshops with protesters to find out which objects would be most suitable for the exhibition. Banner for UNITE the union at the march in support of the NHS in Manchester. Photography by Ed Hall Some exhibits employ the charm of something woven or crafted, such as the arpilleras, the appliqued textiles made first in Chile and then in other places, that commemorate people taken away by ruling regimes and other atrocities. With these, the labour and care taken in making them commands respect and disarms aggression. QBism’: quantum mechanics is not a description of objective reality – it reveals a world of genuine free will November 15, 2023

26 July 2014 - 1 February 2015

Quotations inserted between the steps represent the voices of activists and political thinkers, from 19th-century anarchist Emma Goldman to an anonymous slogan on a 1970s badge. On either side of the entrance, two ‘ceramic posters’ collage images of protest in Britain, past and present. They intentionally cover over an inscription commemorating the inauguration of the building by the ‘Empress and Emperor of India’ (Victoria and Albert). The contemporary scenes are autobiographical, and represent actions that Reichardt, her friends and family were involved in. A group of women artists who, in 1985, set out to expose racism, sexism and corruption in the art world

Craft skills such as sewing will be represented by items including hand-stitched textiles from Chile that document political violence and a banner created for the Unite union in the UK. News from Dezeen Events Guide, a listings guide covering the leading design-related events taking place around the world. Plus occasional updates. Dezeen Awards China Now, to move on to the Zapatista Dolls; these are quite different for the process involved. Shortly before I started focusing entirely on Disobedient Objects, I was actually mount making for the Small Stories exhibition at the Museum of Childhood, where I made mounts for objects like this little guy here: Testing an inflatable hammer made by Eclectic Electric Collective at the Berlin Mauer Park, 2010. Photo: Jakub SimcikThe phrase “go the extra mile” comes from a biblical example of civil resistance. During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus advises oppressed Jews that if a Roman “forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles”. While this lesson is widely taken as advocating the meek acceptance of authority figures, theologian Walter Wink advocates an alternative interpretation: in first-century Judaea, Romans were legally entitled to demand Jews carry items for up to one mile, but any further than this and the Roman could be prosecuted. A Jew going that extra mile committed no crime themself, but turned the tables of power on the Roman, who had to wriggle out of a potentially humiliating scenario. Jesus, therefore, is not talking of cowed subservience but of finding sophisticated legal loopholes to destabilise power dynamics between oppressors and oppressed. This theme of legal subversion underpins many objects on show. Knowing when and what the difference is, is key to the success or failure of many movements. And so often, it hinges on the freedoms afforded a population at that moment in time. In Gaza, for instance, without the freedom of movement and political rights normally afforded a nation, how can a people launch a peaceful protest -- who will be listening to their needs? Graffiti Writer” is a robot for writing street graffiti, designed by the Institute for Applied Autonomy, USA, 1998. (Photo courtesy Institute for Applied Autonomy)

The Bread and Puppet Theatre argues that culture should not belong to the elite but be for everyone This started off in Italy and was taken up in Britain and America by students who had seen them on social media. The title of the exhibition at the entrance was created from cable-ties affixed to an upside down crowd-control fence hung at the entrance of the gallery space. A large-scale representation of the history of barricades dominates the doors of the Porter Gallery. Each individual panel features one particular moment, from the French Revolution to the latest barricades seen in the Arab Spring and Ukraine.The 1989 Met. Museum poster has been periodically updated by the Guerrilla Girls. The subtitle for the 2012 reworking now reads: ‘Less that 4% of the artists in the Modern Art sections are women, but 76% of the nudes are female’. The iconic Met. Museum poster is accompanied by correspondences and gorilla masks in the Disobedient Objects exhibition. The presence of their work is attracting the attention of a diverse audience. The costumed mannequins have proved to be a source of fascination for young girls in particular; the monumental forms are symbols of strength and ambition. The Guerrilla Girls have supported the exhibition with a late-night visit to the V&A. They retrospectively described the exhibition Disobedient Objects as ‘really outside the box’. They continue to wear the notorious gorilla masks as the ‘conscience of the art world’. Disobedient Objects at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London gathers together such items from around the world. Graffiti-spraying drones adapted from remote controlled cars, teargas masks made from water bottles, riot shields fashioned from layered cardboard. It’s a rich collection of remarkable objects that paint a picture of human ingenuity in unlikely scenarios. It’s a really interesting way of occupying public space. This element of unruliness upsets the authorities because the protestors are not abiding by protocol and the accepted rules of engagement. The clever use of props – giant puppets have been used elsewhere – allows the protestors to wrest control. After this photograph was taken, each mount was then taken off to be lacquered and left to dry for 24 hours. I then threaded shrinkable tubing onto the wire and moulded these evenly into place using a heat gun, which was done to avoid any metal snagging against the fabric of the doll. Testing out the mount in the museum workshop.