Obituary of Ray Smith
Ray Smith (–1996) began his career at the Victoria & Albert Museum as a Boy Attendant and ended it as Senior Research Assistant (Administration) in the Department of Prints, Drawing and Paintings. In the interim he worked in the Circulation Department, organizing the preparation of countless travelling exhibitions, and in the Textiles Department, where his love for and care of the objects was an inspiration to his staff.
The many friends of Ray Smith will be deeply saddened to hear of his death at St Mary's Hospital, Paddington, on 31 July 1996. Ray was one of the most popular and respected people ever to work at the V&A, greatly loved by all those with whom he worked or came in contact. He combined all the great qualities - humanity, wisdom, integrity and courage, plus a wonderful sense of humour, and universally-extended friendliness.
Ray began his career at the Museum as a Boy Attendant before the War (his duties including the stoking-up of fires in Keepers' offices), and ended it as Senior Research Assistant (Administration) in the Department of Prints, Drawing and Paintings, with forty years service and proud achievements to his name. In the interim he worked in the Circulation Department, organizing the preparation of countless travelling exhibitions, and in the Textiles Department, where his love for and care of the objects was an inspiration to his staff.
Among the great projects he administered were the creation of mezzanine offices and storage in PDP's old quarters in the Main Museum (now partly occupied by Metalwork Department) in the 1960s, and the famous move of PDP and its one million objects into newly-created storage in the Henry Cole Wing, opened by the Queen in 1983. Such Herculean tasks required vision, meticulous planning and efficient execution.
During the War, Ray served with the Eighth Army, and many of the skills he learnt there seemed to come in handy at the V&A. The move to the Cole Wing, for example, required the construction at high level of a kind of Bailey Bridge (known as Ray's Bridge) between the main building and the Cole Wing, over which objects were pushed in trucks. When preparing loans or exhibitions, his skills with a scalpel and Stanley knife were vital, and he always felt that the most important question at an interviewing board should be 'Can you use a screwdriver?' He could be relied upon to make things fit, work, and generally get on the road; and he liked to see objects as immaculately presented as he was himself in his personal appearance.
Ray's support for his staff was summed up in his various catchphrases: 'Problems, dear?' he would enquire on sight of some flustered face or troubled stance. Having listened to the anxious recital, if the problem were immediately surmountable, he would offer up an inventive solution with an enquiring smile and the words 'goodly wheeze?' If it proved more intractable, he uttered the reassuring words 'Leave it with me, dear', and these were not idle words, but did mean action. Ray remained unflappable and serene during the ups and downs of the V&A, though when some new crisis came to blight his carefully-made plans he would occasionally philosophise: 'What a life for a crust of bread!'
Ray's avowedly practical approach to life did not altogether disguise his real love of art (originally fostered by his wartime service in Italy, where he spent his time off visiting churches and museums), or his enthusiasm for ballet, theatre and opera. He was also a great sport, who enjoyed playing tennis, and in later years snooker, with friends at the Museum. PDP was blessed with Ray's continuing friendship after his retirement, and an annual event was the delivery by hand of a beautifully-wrapped slice of 'Ray's cake' - a birthday fruit-cake much improved by the addition of Guinness dexterously inserted into the mixture with the aid of a knitting needle.
Good and amusing company, Ray was a welcome guest at any V&A party or celebration, and his trade-mark signature on greeting cards will be familiar to many - an image of a radiant glass of Guinness always accompanied by the words 'Cheers, dears!'Ray Smith died after a long period of ill health bravely borne. He owed the last years of his life to a successful kidney transplant carried out at St. Mary's Hospital Paddington, and thereafter worked ardently to support the work of the hospital.
