The Pink Floyd Exhibition: Their Mortal Remains review – look, a flying pig!

V&A, London
The refracting prism, the businessman ablaze, the giant inflatable pig: they may be pop's most anonymous band, but Pink Floyd's artwork is instantly recognisable - as this stunning V&A show proves

Virtually the first thing the visitor to Their Mortal Remains sees is a quote from the late John Peel regarding Pink Floyd's legendary anonymity: "They could have joined the audience at one of their own gigs without being recognised." On the face of it, that should preclude Pink Floyd as a band on which to base a V&A exhibition in the blockbusting vein of 2013's David Bowie Is, 250m albums sold or not. Then again, as the exhibition makes clear, few bands in rock history have ever been as creative in their attempts to distract attention from themselves.

In truth, a certain anonymity seems to have clung to Pink Floyd from the start, even when they were fronted by Syd Barrett, a man as photogenic and pop-star pretty as he was talented: an early cover feature on the band in Town magazine doesn't feature them on the cover at all, opting instead for a female model with the band's psychedelic light show projected over her face. Nevertheless, they endured a brief moment of old-fashioned pop stardom in the summer of 1967, replete with appearances on Top of the Pops and in the teen magazines ("Syd is 5 foot 11 inches tall, with black hair and green eyes - the mystery man of the group and a gypsy at heart"). By all accounts - including the testimonies from bandmates and friends featured in a heartbreaking exhibition video - it was an experience that seemed to wreak almost as much havoc on Barrett's fragile psyche as the vast quantities of LSD he consumed, hastening his decline.