A warehouse filled with wonderful artefacts in east London

MANY MUSEUMS INCLUDING London’s Victoria and Albert (‘V&A’) own far more items than they have room to display them. The objects for which there is no gallery space to display them usually lie hidden away in museums’ storerooms. Following the example of a museum in Rotterdam, the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, the V&A has created an open access storeroom, where members of the public can see many of the objects that were formerly hidden away from view in the museum’s old warehouses.

V&A East Storehouse, which was designed by the American studio Diller Scofidio + Renfro, opened its doors to public visitors on 31 May 2025. It is in the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park near East London’s Stratford Station and West Ham’s football stadium.   We had to queue for about 20 minutes before gaining admittance on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It was well worth waiting to see this incredible creation.

The parts of the Storehouse which are open to the public are arranged on three floors. The upper two are on galleries that overlook the lowest floor. Stepping into this edifice is rather like entering a huge B&Q or Ikea warehouse filled with shelving. However, there the similarity ends. The shelves are covered with an amazing variety of artefacts, ranging from ancient to modern times, and sourced from all over the world. There is also a viewing platform that allows visitors to watch the museum’s conservators working. Another room houses only one exhibit: an enormous backdrop that Picasso painted for the 1924 performance of the ballet, “Le Train Bleu”. It measures 10.4 by 11 metres, and is the artist’s largest known painting.

Without going into much detail, it seems that whoever arranged the artefacts in the Storehouse had a great sense of humour. For example, a twentieth century chair is placed right next to a rococo chest of drawers, and a fragment from a mediaeval church is placed immediately above an early example of a television. Few of the artefacts are labelled apart from bearing their museum inventory numbers. Dotted around this contemporary Aladdin’s Cave of cultural treasures, there are several exhibits with labels that explain various aspects of running the V&A and its curatorial philosophy.

With good transport connections to central London, there is no excuse not to visit the city’s latest fascinating cultural experience: the V&A Storehouse.

West of London but not an attraction for tourists

OVER THE YEARS. We have made many visits to Slough, a town in Berkshire, just west of Heathrow Airport. It would usually not figure on tourists’ lists of places that they feel they must see. And there is little in Slough that would entice people to visit the place. Yet, since the early 1970s, we have visited there often.

My PhD supervisor, Robert Harkness, and his wife, Margaret, lived in the countryside not far from Slough. They used to travel between Slough and Paddington stations when they were travelling to and from University College London (‘UCL’). While I was studying with them, they became my close friends. Until they died in the early years of this century, I, and then later my wife and our daughter, often spent weekends in their large Victorian home, Margaret, who played the violin, was involved with the Slough Philharmonic Orchestra (Slough Philharmonic Society). For many years, she not only played in the second violin section but also, she was the orchestra’s honorary accountant. We were often invited to the orchestra’s concerts, many of which were held in concert halls in Slough. A few of the concerts were held in Slough’s ‘posh’ neighbour Eton.

Because Robert and Margaret lived near Slough and we visited them often, we hired a storage unit (‘godown’) in Slough. We could combine visiting our friends with making trips to add things to our storage place. Sadly, Robert and Margaret are now no more than fond memories. However, our storage locker remains in Slough. So, visits to the town continue.

Recently, the company that stores our stuff moved from the edge of Slough to a place closer to the centre. It has a good car park and is close to a wonderful range of food shops. Slough has many inhabitants whose ancestors hail from the Indian Subcontinent and a sizeable Polish population. On the outskirts of Slough, there is at least one large Polish sporting/country club. Near our newly located storage place, there are two well-stocked Polish food supermarkets, which sell many products including things that would not be found at the nearby halal food shops and eateries. In addition to food shops catering for people of Indian and Pakistani origins, there are gift shops where decorated Hindu idols can be bought. There is also a jewellery store whose gold and diamond-studded items are just like what I have seen in India.

Drab as Slough undoubtedly is, the ethnic mix of its inhabitants add a welcome touch of colour and exoticism to the place. Having said that, I am not sure that I would recommend going there unless you have a reason to do so.

Friday the 13th is unlucky for some

MUCH OF MOTCOMB Street in London’s Belgravia is now pedestrianised. It is lined with nineteenth century buildings that house shops and food outlets, mostly aimed at wealthy customers. Here, you can find the shops of Christian Loubertin, Ottolenghi, Nicola Donati, Marie Chantal, Maison Corthay, to mention but a few you might know. It is probably safe to say that this is not much of a street for bargain hunters, but to be fair, it does boast a newsagent and a large branch of the Waitrose supermarket chain.

Motcomb Street first appears on a map in 1830, when it was briefly known as ‘Kinnerton Mews’. By 1854, many of the houses along it became shops and places where cows were kept. A publication (http://www.grosvenorlondon.com/GrosvenorLondon/media/GrosvenorLondon/WALKING-IN-BELGRAVIA.pdf) produced by the Grosvenor Estate details the shops:

“… a cow-keeper, a saddler, two tailors, a plumber, a wheelwright, a grocer and two sellers of asses’ milk (thought to be beneficial to health and used in nearby hospitals).”

The ‘Alfred Tennyson’ pub stands on the corner of Motcomb and Kinnerton Streets. It was formerly known as ‘The Pantechnicon’. The reason for its earlier name becomes obvious if you walk away from it westwards along Motcomb Street. Opposite Waitrose and by far the most imposing building in the street is a neo-classical façade supported by ten sturdy pillars with Doric capitals. As impressive as many of the great neoclassical façades in central London,  such as that of the National Gallery, these pillars support a slab on which the word ‘PANTECHNICON’ is boldly displayed.

The Pantechnicon was built as commercial premises in about 1830-34 (https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1223569) for the property developer Seth Smith (1791-1860), most probably designed by the architect and civil engineer Joseph Jopling (1788-1867; http://farnham.attfield.de/fam1012.html). The Pantechnicon was enormous. Covering two acres, it stretched backwards (north) from Motcomb street and was surrounded by the backs of many of the houses lining the east side of Lowndes Square and the west side of Kinnerton Street. When it was completed, it was originally:

“… a bazaar, and was established principally for the sale of carriages and household furniture. There was also a ‘wine department’, consisting of a range of dry vaults for the reception and display of wines; and the bazaar contained likewise a ‘toy department.’” (www.british-history.ac.uk/old-new-london/vol5/pp1-14).

By 1850, when Peter Cunningham published his “Handbook of London”, things had changed. It had become a repository, where you:

“… may send the whole contents of an extensive house – furniture, wine, pictures, even jewellery; and the utmost care will be taken of them, at a comparatively reasonable charge …”

Cunningham lists these charges in detail and later added reassuringly:

“The building is well ventilated, and considered fireproof; but the risk (if any) of accidents by fire, civil commotion, or otherwise, will attach to the owners of the property sent to the Pantechnicon to be warehoused.”

Incidentally, the owners of the Pantechnicon designed a new form of removal van. Its innovation was a movable rear ramp that aided the loading of heavy or bulky objects. Originally, horse-drawn, these became known as ‘Pantechnicons’, a word often applied to motorised removal trucks in use today. And just in case you are wondering, the word ‘pantechnicon’ is derived from two Greek words, ‘pan’ and ‘techne’, meaning ‘all arts’, and was coined to describe wide range of goods that were available to buy in the bazaar in Motcomb Street.

Disaster struck on Friday, the 13th of February 1874 at about 4 pm. The fireproof Pantechnicon burst into flames. By 7 pm, the roof had collapsed. Karen Odden, who has written an interesting article about this conflagration (https://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-pantechnicon-fire-of-1874.html), noted:

“ …the event was perhaps the single largest episode of destruction of art and furnishings in the Victorian era … It is difficult to assess the value of the objects lost. Because people had such faith in the Pantechnicon, they under-insured their valuables—or found ways to avoid insuring them altogether. For example, one family hid their jewels in their furniture. The cost of insuring a headboard was significantly less than insuring jewels—but jewels hidden inside were (ostensibly) safe all the same. (Tricky!) However, it is known for certain that the fire destroyed the MP Sir Richard Wallace’s painting collection, worth £150,000; and the MP Sir Seymour Fitzgerald’s art collection, worth £200,000, which included many portraits by Sir Joshua Reynolds and paintings by other masters including J.M.W. Turner. Contemporary accounts estimated the total value upon the destroyed items at £2,000,000 (approximately £220,000,000 or $280,000,000 today).”

Luckily for us, many of Wallace’s works were not involved in the fire as can be seen by visiting the Wallace Collection in his former home in Manchester Square.

Today, only the façade of the Pantechnicon remains standing. Located opposite a modern ‘bazaar’, Waitrose, it conceals a lovely public space behind it, which contains benches and a few artworks, and is lined by Halkins Arcade. A modern building attached to the old façade houses restaurants, bars and other businesses, some of which can be entered from the Arcade.

It worth making a visit to Motcomb Street not only to see the impressive remnant of the Pantechnicon but also because the short pedestrian-friendly street has become a particularly pleasant place to linger.