Late in 2016 Chris Killip’s son serendipitously discovered a box of contact sheets of the photos his father had made at The Station, an anarcho-punk music venue in Gateshead open from 1981 to 1985. These images of raw youth caught in the heat of celebration had lain dormant for 30 years; they now return to life in this book. The Station was not merely a music and rehearsal space, but a crucible for the self-expression of the sub-cultures and punk politics of the time. As Killip recollects: "When I first went to The Station in April 1985, I was amazed by the energy and feel of the place. It was totally different, run for and by the people who went there. Every Saturday that I could, I photographed there. Nobody ever asked me where I was from or even who I was. A 39-year-old with cropped white hair, always wearing a suit, with pockets stitched inside the jacket to hold my slides. With a 4 × 5 camera around my neck and a Norman flash and its battery around my waist, I must have looked like something out of a 1950s B movie. 1985 was just after the miners strike and there was a lot of youth unemployment. Most of the punks at The Station didn’t have a job, and this place, run as a very inclusive collective, was so important to them and their self-worth."
What you’re trying not to do is oversimplify. You’re trying to have some sort of cool in there somehow, so that people looking at your pictures are not constrained by you. Meaning you haven’t predetermined everything, so that ambiguity can be embraced. Chris Killip
Late in 2016 Chris Killip’s son serendipitously discovered a box of contact sheets of the photos his father had made at The Station, an anarcho-punk music venue in Gateshead open from 1981 to 1985. These images of raw youth caught in the heat of celebration had lain dormant for 30 years; they now return to life in this book. The Station was not merely a music and rehearsal space, but a crucible for the self-expression of the sub-cultures and punk politics of the time. As Killip recollects: "When I first went to The Station in April 1985, I was amazed by the energy and feel of the place. It was totally different, run for and by the people who went there. Every Saturday that I could, I photographed there. Nobody ever asked me where I was from or even who I was. A 39-year-old with cropped white hair, always wearing a suit, with pockets stitched inside the jacket to hold my slides. With a 4 × 5 camera around my neck and a Norman flash and its battery around my waist, I must have looked like something out of a 1950s B movie. 1985 was just after the miners strike and there was a lot of youth unemployment. Most of the punks at The Station didn’t have a job, and this place, run as a very inclusive collective, was so important to them and their self-worth."
What you’re trying not to do is oversimplify. You’re trying to have some sort of cool in there somehow, so that people looking at your pictures are not constrained by you. Meaning you haven’t predetermined everything, so that ambiguity can be embraced. Chris Killip
Born on the Isle of Man in 1946, Chris Killip was a Professor of Visual and Environmental Studies at Harvard University where he had taught from 1991. Since 2012 he has held solo exhibitions at Museum Folkwang, Essen; Le Bal, Paris; Tate Britain, London; Museo Reina Sofia, Madrid; and the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. Killip’s works are held in the permanent collections of institutions including the Museum of Modern Art, New York; George Eastman House, Rochester; and the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. His books with Steidl are Pirelli Work (2006), Seacoal, (2011), Arbeit / Work (2012), Isle of Man Revisited (2015) and In Flagrante Two (2016).
The pictures in The Station date from the same period, documenting
a punk club in Gateshead, across the Tyne River from Newcastle --
they were found in a pile of neglected contact sheets in 2016 by
Killip's son. The pages are very large (11.3 inches by 14.7
inches), many of the pictures stretch across the spread, and the
camera seldom ranges farther than about three feet from its
subjects, who are consequently in your face. They are the audience
(primarily), and they are passionately engaged in what might be
considered dancing but looks somewhat more emotionally grueling and
explosive. In a typical lineup, one boy looks furious, another
ecstatic, a third about to collapse -- that one wears a badge that
says "Coal Not Dole," a reminder that this is the place and time of
the last great miners' strike in Britain. The bands have names like
Sons of Bad Breath and Legion of Parasites. The clothes, the
slogans, the chains, the piercings all intend to convey
desperation, but Killip focuses on the vitality in the room, its
untapped potential, and the release that this ritual permits its
initiates, allowing them to go on with their otherwise constricted
lives.--Luc Sante "New York Times"
The Station, a collection of photographs made in the mosh pits of a
punk music venue near Newcastle, England, in the early 80s, is
generous in size and spirit. The energy is bursting; there is no
room to leave any space left blank.--Mark Steinmetz "Photo Eye"
Influential artist, hailed by Martin Parr as a 'key player' in
British photography, captured human dignity amid industrial decline
in England's north-east--Sean O'Hagan "Guardian"
The Station is an anarcho-punk photo book, capturing scenes at a
club in Gateshead, Northern England...Killip's son stumbled upon a
box of contact sheets 40 years later, only to discover it was full
of music scene mementos. Like individual chain links on a punk
necklace, this book strings pictures together to create a dynamic
look at an explosive punk scene.--Maia Rae Bachman "Musee"
A collection of flash-lit, black and white pictures taken in
Gateshead at a music venue called The Station.--Ayla Angelos "It's
Nice That"
Chris Killip's evocative portraits document how a small movement
and single venue galvanized a community, and gave young people a
sense of self-worth and hope.--Emily Gosling "Elephant"
Documents punk rockers in action, escaping the tough realities of
North East England through music and moshing.--Emma Russell
"i-D"
Killip's laying bare of the personalities at the club, in
atmospheric black and white, evokes the way Dorothea Lange or Diane
Arbus could capture the spirit, almost mystical, of working-class
folks. But whereas those artists' works often contrasted the
close-up expressiveness etched onto well-traveled faces by
alternately placing their subjects against wide-open vistas and the
rawness of their environments, Killip stays intimate.--Jason
Carpenter "Arts Editor"
Left untouched for years in a box of contacts in the photographer's
studio, the spirited black and white photographs Killip took inside
The Station document a bygone era of nightlife.--Belle Hutton
"AnOther"
Chris Killip's images capture the heyday of The Station in
Gateshead, Newcastle--Zoe Whitfield "AnOther Man"
Chris Killip's photos capture the freedom of punk in 80s north east
England--Elizabeth Coop "Dazed"
The Station was a legendary hotspot where cider-fuelled punks would
pogo to Rancid, Death Zone and more. Chris Killip reveals how he
photographed the pummelling chaos--Sean O'Hagan "Guardian"
|
Ask a Question About this Product More... |
|
