THE STATION - Chris Killip
At the end of 2016, Chris Killip's son stumbled across a box of contact sheets containing photos his father had taken at The Station, an anarcho-punk music venue in Gateshead open from 1981 to 1985. These images of raw youth caught up in the heat of the party had lain dormant for 30 years; now they come back to life in this book. The Station was not just a place for music and rehearsals, but a crucible for the expression of the subcultures and punk politics of the time. Killip recalls: "When I first went to The Station in April 1985, I was stunned by the energy and atmosphere. It was totally different, run for and by the people who went there. Every Saturday I could, I photographed there. No one ever asked me where I was from or even who I was. A 39-year-old man with cropped white hair, always dressed in a suit, with pockets sewn inside the jacket to hold my slides. With a 4×5 camera around my neck and a Norman flash and battery around my waist, I must have looked like someone 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 jobs, and this place, run as a very inclusive collective, was so important to them and their self-esteem."
Published by Steidl, 2020
28.5 x 37.5 cm
80 pages
ISBN 978-3-95829-616-9
At the end of 2016, Chris Killip's son stumbled across a box of contact sheets containing photos his father had taken at The Station, an anarcho-punk music venue in Gateshead open from 1981 to 1985. These images of raw youth caught up in the heat of the party had lain dormant for 30 years; now they come back to life in this book. The Station was not just a place for music and rehearsals, but a crucible for the expression of the subcultures and punk politics of the time. Killip recalls: "When I first went to The Station in April 1985, I was stunned by the energy and atmosphere. It was totally different, run for and by the people who went there. Every Saturday I could, I photographed there. No one ever asked me where I was from or even who I was. A 39-year-old man with cropped white hair, always dressed in a suit, with pockets sewn inside the jacket to hold my slides. With a 4×5 camera around my neck and a Norman flash and battery around my waist, I must have looked like someone 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 jobs, and this place, run as a very inclusive collective, was so important to them and their self-esteem."
Published by Steidl, 2020
28.5 x 37.5 cm
80 pages
ISBN 978-3-95829-616-9
At the end of 2016, Chris Killip's son stumbled across a box of contact sheets containing photos his father had taken at The Station, an anarcho-punk music venue in Gateshead open from 1981 to 1985. These images of raw youth caught up in the heat of the party had lain dormant for 30 years; now they come back to life in this book. The Station was not just a place for music and rehearsals, but a crucible for the expression of the subcultures and punk politics of the time. Killip recalls: "When I first went to The Station in April 1985, I was stunned by the energy and atmosphere. It was totally different, run for and by the people who went there. Every Saturday I could, I photographed there. No one ever asked me where I was from or even who I was. A 39-year-old man with cropped white hair, always dressed in a suit, with pockets sewn inside the jacket to hold my slides. With a 4×5 camera around my neck and a Norman flash and battery around my waist, I must have looked like someone 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 jobs, and this place, run as a very inclusive collective, was so important to them and their self-esteem."
Published by Steidl, 2020
28.5 x 37.5 cm
80 pages
ISBN 978-3-95829-616-9
