Return of the Rudeboy

Rudie don't fear - he has the confidence to know a good look might be down to what he's wearing or a glint in his eye. At the end of the day a true Rudeboy needs no blessing by society 'cause he knows - "Rudie can't fail"

--Don Letts

Somerset house is one of my favourite places to visit when I stay in London. The layout of the winding corridors and stairs are maze like, with exhibitions as little treasures to discover at the end of each path. A couple of years ago I assisted on a catwalk held here for London Fashion Week. The chaos of being backstage at such a seemingly sculpted vent has an alternate feel to floating around the echoing halls on a cloudy summers day. The thing that draws me to the house is the industrious feel of the steel sculptures used as tables in the cafe, combined with the classic design of the high ceilings and marble floors. It seems to pinpoint exactly what I love about London - the juxtaposition of old and new. Standing on Waterloo bridge on the way, one side faced with a skyline marked with the landmarks of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament while the other boasts grand skyscrapers more akin to Dubai than city hall. The commonality of these features is that they all tower over you, sculpted to the minutest of details, dwarfing you to insignificant dot. Here I find myself lost to the grandeur of the city, happily allowing myself to fade into the background of noise.

A similar thing happens when I go to see The Return of the Rudeboy exhibition. Aptly set within the walls of Somerset House, the space is filled with an array of photography, films and installations (including a functioning barbershop). The style it encapsulates is that of the Rudeboy - an intertwining of skinhead and mod influences, transcends back as far as the 1950s, as well as being synonymous with the 2 tone movement of the 1970s; it has more recently seen a revival. Eloquently curated, the show features large portraits of people in their own Rudeboy attire which seemed to dwarf me in the same way as the skyscrapers outside. The show reveals a craftsmanship akin to architecture, as every detail down to the shoes is meticulously selected. Here is an art form all of its own and I again allow myself to fade into the background, this time of the accompanying ska soundtrack.

I, like many others of my generation, have a tendency to romanticise the subcultures of the past. In a period when everything is marketed, there is no longer a unifying ground within youth culture that is not commercialised. So what makes the Rudeboy so different? Well as Carnival approaches, rooted in the historicity of the past as a renewal of a feeling of freedom that appears all but lost in the 21st century, I am reminded of the rich past of this particular movement. Grounded by their Jamaican forefathers, the soul of the Rudeboy has not been lost to the mass of high street brands in the same way that punk largely has. There is still the DIY element and the defining factor that Rudeboy is not about what you wear, it is about who you are. It is not simply a trend you pick up and try on but rather a lifestyle rich with culture. At a point where core values and strong character seems to be lost to superficial image, the Return of the Rudeboy is exactly what is needed. As Don Letts puts its - 'In a conservative culture that feels like punk never happened, the time is right for the Return of the Rudeboy.'

                

 

  

Return of the Rudeboy is on at Somerset House until 25th August 2014.

The Photographers' Gallery collection of Greats

 

Until the 30th March at The Photographers' Gallery in Soho, three shows synchronise, spanning the work of Andy Warhol, William Burroughs and David Lynch. Encompassing three floors of the intimate gallery, the shows may not be extreme in size, but they serve to brilliantly compliment each other through a collection that acts as a journey through the photographic works of three exceptional artists.

Andy Warhol: Photographs 1976-1987, resembles a collection comprising of the everyday, with Warhol's interest in repeated imagery coming into play through his 'stitched' photographs. Far from being immersive, the collection allows you to take on the position of the outsider. It's as if you are bearing witness to the day-to-day of the artist's life within the 1980s -- from depictions of city streets, to intimate portraits of artists such as Basquiat occupied in the mundane task of eating. What these then display is a private look into an unattainable world, placed in the romantic light of black and white film. A zoning in on the details of a scene, through the close up nature of much of the images, gives the impression that only a glimpse of a much wider picture is being divulged. Such is that the collection becomes fraught with a curiosity that then becomes inherent to the images.

There is a similar intimacy to Taking Shots: The Photography of William S. Burroughs but this time through an inclusive look into Burroughs' artistic and creative process. Though his photography is often overlooked, with this being the first exhibition worldwide to focus on Burroughs' vast photographic collection, it better provides an insight into the depth of Burroughs' artistic character. There is a sense of following Burroughs on a journey, as if you are tracing his line of vision through the photographs. Telling of this style, Burroughs wrote of his photographic process, 'Walk down a city block with a camera and take what you notice, moving the camera around as closely as possible to follow the direction of your eyes. The point is to make the camera your eyes and take what your eyes are scanning out of the larger picture.' A series of collages use a 'cut-up' technique that is reminiscent of Stezaker, carved so intently that some take on the form of a kaleidoscope, while distorted self-portraits are fascinating more in what they hide than what they reveal. Through his manipulation of these images, Burroughs work becomes far from simply observatory. The conclusion of the show, St Louis Return 1964, a series documenting the artist's return to his hometown, resonates through a tone of degradation -- creating a bittersweetness to the collection which lingers hauntingly.

The culmination of the triad, David Lynch: The Factory Photographs, for me was the most noteworthy. Accompanied by a sound installation created by Lynch to enhance the show, you are persuaded to move round the gallery at a pace that suggests you are actually walking through an old industrial warehouse. The poignant images hold a sense of being trapped in one of Lynch's twisted dreams. We observe as the foundations are laid for his next distorted reality. To be transported into the inner workings of such an exceptional talent is certainly a fate worth bearing, even if it means the inciting of chills down your spine as you observe the perverse otherworldliness of his genius.

Wonderful Women
The arrival of International Women's Day yesterday acted as proof of all of the wonderful things that women continue to do with their time. Femme Fierce took to the streets of London in an attempt to make it into the record books, by aiming to paint the biggest graffiti mural created by multiple artists. Adding a dose of colour to the walls of Leake Street Tunnel in Waterloo, with the common theme of 'It's a woman's world', the group provided a clear indication of how a seemingly mundane place can be transformed by a collective creation. 

(all images © Ben Walters: Source)

The efforts of these women to come together to alter a public space in a way that enhances its beauty got me thinking about why the day was important to me. The fact that through it we get a recognition of what we can achieve when we work together, when we stand by each other, is what really sticks in my mind. It's that desire to strive to create a world in which we exist in a considerate and conscious way, celebrating each other's achievements and encouraging each and every person in their endeavours. That realisation that we are much stronger when we stand side by side, and far be it from this being a woman's world or a man's world, allowing this to be a world where we coexist in a way that breeds compassion and life in order to create a space in which each individual is able to blossom under the assurance of unconditional love and support.