April 2, 2025

At the Wellin Museum, the world of art is always alive—though sometimes, it takes a little nap. As the Assistant Curator of Menagerie, I, Art the stuffed bear, have had the joy of overseeing a collection that explores the many ways animals inhabit human imagination. From ancient sculptures to contemporary paintings, Menagerie is a testament to how creatures—real and reimagined—find their place in artistic expression. But several Fridays ago, something quite extraordinary happened: the museum itself transformed into a den of dreams, a nocturnal playground where plush companions took center stage.

The Wellin’s Stuffed Animal Sleepover was an event unlike any other. By day, young visitors arrived, clinging to their beloved plush friends. Some were well-loved, fur worn thin from years of devotion. Others were newer, with vibrant colors and perky ears. They were entrusted to the Wellin for the night, a big step for both child and stuffed confidant. As a fellow plush figure myself, I assured them that their cherished friends were in good hands—or, should I say, good paws.

As night fell and the museum’s human visitors departed, the real fun began. We, the stuffed animals, stretched our limbs, shook off the day’s stillness, and embarked on an adventure through the museum. Some of us explored the works in Menagerie, pondering our own place in the lineage of artistic representation. Others, perhaps emboldened by the presence of historic animal figures, tested the edges of mischief. There was a particularly enthusiastic game of hide-and-seek among the exhibition pedestals, and a conga line formed in the lobby—though no one could agree on who started it.

Even I, a bear of curatorial responsibility, could not resist joining in. After all, how often does one get to see an elephant plushie attempt an art critique or a rabbit in a bowtie analyze brushstrokes? As the hours passed, our energy waned, and we nestled into cozy corners: atop gallery benches, under the grand staircase, leaning against each other in soft piles of companionship. The museum, so often a space for contemplation, became a sanctuary of shared dreams.

By morning, the stuffed guests were carefully tucked into their designated spots, waiting to be reunited with their humans. When the doors opened, sleepy-eyed children rushed in, wrapping their arms around their plush friends. Some were eager for stories of the night’s escapades; others simply whispered, relieved to be together again. There were no doubts that bonds had been strengthened—not just between child and toy, but between art, imagination, and the quiet magic of museum spaces.

As a curator (and a bear), I spend my days contemplating the role of animals in art. That night, however, we weren’t just representations of animals—we were the living heart of the museum. We reminded everyone, young and old, that art is not only something to be observed but something to be experienced, felt, and yes, even cuddled. And if you ask me, that’s a masterpiece in itself. Click here to see images from the full evening’s events.

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