When I saw this photograph of Libuše Niklová (Czechoslovakia, 1934-1981) I might have fallen a bit in love. Just look at the energy she gives off, her hair, her playful half-smile, and the way she looks at her toy cat like it is a real, living creature.

When she arrived at art school, she went in with the idea of becoming a toy designer. By then her country had a long history of toy design and puppet making – the Artěl cooperative (1908-1924/35), a movement inspired by the Wiener Werkstätte, produced originally low-cost wooden toys like a wonderful little devil toy designed in 1921 by Václav Špála (see this modern-day, hand-painted reproduction), or Ladislav Sutnar’s animals on wheels from 1930 (see modern-day reproductions). Niklová had plenty of brilliant references.

However, when she started studying, wood was already becoming more expensive, and plastic was emerging as a new material, a revolutionary new solution to so many things. She embraced it from the outset, stating at one point that ‘the future belongs to plastic’.

Of course, she was not wrong, and I find it interesting to think of this now in 2021, when we are drowning in plastic, and have come to understand it as one of the key problems the world is facing today. It is unnerving to look back at a time when plastic was seen as an exhilarating new material to play with, but it was that. Here we had something that could be moulded into any shape, could take on any colour under the sun, was incredibly lightweight, and was very cheap to buy. For a designer making toys, it opened up a whole range of possibilities that had previously not been conceivable.

Libuše Niklová started making squeaky toys at Gumotex (now an inflatable boat manufacturer) in Breclav around 1954. Take a look at these wonderful rubber toys, which included a doctor, a nurse, a motorcyclist, a lion tamer (the fact that a lion tamer is included under the same category as a doctor or a motorcyclist gives us a good glimpse into her character).

In the early sixties, when she was working at Fatra in Najapedla, she noticed some accordion pieces that were part of a new toilet flush system the company had designed, and she had something of a brainwave, which led to her 1963 design of her first accordion animal, Tomcat. The literature available on Niklová is scarce, and the only monograph ever made on her is out of print; however, I think it is safe to say that she was influenced by Bruno Munari’s Meo Romeo foam cat, created in 1949 – look how similar the faces are. The cat was followed by other accordion figures, including our friend Rafan the dog here, a lion, a fox, a crocodile, and even this marvellous baby.

There is a great video of her son Petr (himself an artist too) on this MoMA page, where you can see him demonstrating each toy. The accordion animals satisfyingly expand and contract, and her inflatable animals (which you can still buy today) make wonderful noises. I wonder whether her son offers us a glimpse into her character – I like the way he plays with every single one, systematically, properly, and unabashedly, like a small child might do, taking pleasure in the noises.

I like the focus of these toys. They have been designed for sensory enjoyment and for amusement – for babies and children, yes, but with a brand of humour and playfulness that perfectly avoids cutesiness and talking down to them. They are also an open invitation to share delight in the world and its funny little details.

Rafan offers us what anyone looks for in a dog – faithful, permanently ready to play go fetch (see tail), and an extremely low menace factor. Does his bark sound different when his accordion belly is all stretched out? Is it wuff or woooeeeeff? Does he like it when we stretch him out all the way and let go suddenly, making him jump forward a little? Does he? Good dog, Rafan!