Archival Bodies

Architecture and design collective playbody curated the first ever live event at V&A Storehouse, featuring designs that encourage trust and participation (image: Alexander Ekholm).

In the central patio of V&A Storehouse, people are spinning on a roundabout, kicking their feet to the tune of soft harp music while their heads roll back to absorb the racks of objects swirling above them. “It makes the space probably more overwhelming,” says playbody, the architecture and design collective who designed the first ever live event hosted at Storehouse, which opened earlier this month. “But in a fun way, in a playful way.”

The idea for a collaboration between playbody and the V&A first sparked when members of both teams met during a night out, an origin story that is particularly fitting for a collective that creates nightlife events designed to promote human connection. The studio typically hosts events at its own studio, only a few minutes’ walk away from Storehouse, inviting audiences to engage with their bodies and each other in unexpected ways, from dancing on top of a bar on wheels to wearing DJ equipment strapped to their backs. “The idea is that if we can introduce this level of responsibility to people, there will also come trust and care,” says playbody, who answer questions collectively to reflect the collaborative nature of their work. 

Image: Jaw Midnight.

Storehouse has similarly been designed to encourage participation and guardianship, with visitors emboldened to navigate the museum without curatorial guidance, examine and handle objects from the V&A’s archive, and have a behind-the-scenes look at museum processes such as conservation work. “What was really important for [the V&A] was to make people understand that this is a new way of experiencing a museum space where more responsibility and more trust is given to guests,” playbody says. To demonstrate these shared principles, Storehouse offered playbody access to the entirety of its space, with performers at the event applying makeup inside an air-locked space where the 17th-century Agra Colonnade is stored, as well as running on treadmills in sections of the museum currently closed off to visitors. 

V&A Storehouse offered playbody access to the entirety of its space, including sections closed off to visitors (image: Alexander Ekholm).

Created especially for the V&A event, playbody’s roundabout has backrests that allow people to face outwards and observe the racks of objects surrounding them, or to face inwards and look at each other as they twirl. “The playground is one of the few places which is only designed for you to connect with your body, to have fun and roam around,” playbody explains, while talking about the similarities between their work and spaces designed for children. “A lot of designs give a lot of space for economical values, safety, and comfort, and we basically inverted that system by putting the experience of the body first, in how it connects to itself and to the space.” The collective’s pieces are designed to move people into positions that stretch their physical and emotional boundaries, and any profit from their events is funnelled back into their creation. “There’s so much joy being in that space where you’re really leaving your comfort zone,” playbody says. “I think that’s what we all want when we go out, and if a space doesn’t offer this to you, we often don’t do it ourselves.”

In playbody’s human booth, performers hold a mixer and decks on their backs for a DJ to use (image: Stylian Tastsoglou).

Working with Storehouse has enabled playbody to design spaces for relaxation for the first time, which the studio is planning to incorporate into their own events in the future. “Dancing together is one way of connecting in the club, but there’s a lack of alternatives,” playbody says. “Rent being so expensive, club spaces don’t have the means to offer much more than a dance floor, so chill out areas, when they exist at all, are often an afterthought.” At Storehouse, the studio’s human booth, which usually involves people kneeling on their hands and knees on top of a padded scaffolding structure with DJ equipment strapped to their backs, has been repurposed into something softer. Here, the DJ sits crossed-legged, surrounded by three boothbabes – as playbody calls the people carrying the mixer and the two decks – who are are lying on their bellies across bespoke upholstered mats. “It gives people a chance to see how easy it is to gift a little highlight to each other, how beautiful it is do something for someone else,” playbody says, explaining how the human booth creates moments of intimacy through generosity. With a towering Picasso stage cloth forming the backdrop, two human booth performers lie with their heads turned towards each other, sharing smiles as they relax into the mat.

Image: Stylian Tastsoglou.

“Something which [cultural institutions] can learn from us is to stay local and have a local network, because the concepts of responsibility, care and trust are really difficult to translate outside of local environments,” playbody says. The collective’s typical events are highly curated, with a limited number of password protected tickets and a social contract attendees must adhere to in order to gain entry. These measures are intended to create a safe space for its attendees, many of whom are queer or trans, and to ensure that the event continues to be accessible to the community for which it was built. While the V&A’s event is free and available to all, branching outside of the nightlife space is key for playbody to grow their practice while preserving the sacredness and longevity of its own events. “We really think that the idea of playbody is transferable outside of the club,” playbody says, “and the only way for us to exist without damaging or upscaling the club is to reach out to places that are outside of it.” 


Words Helen Gonzalez Brown

 
Previous
Previous

The Crit #18: Paul Cocksedge

Next
Next

The Crit #17: Nipa Doshi