Five days at Battersea Arts Centre

During the last week of March 1980 and under the threat of the closure because of cuts in the arts, Battersea Arts centre was the host of five days of installations, films and performances by established and up and coming artists at the time. Among the artists who exhibited at this group exhibitions there were the names of Silvia Zinarek, Bill Furlong and Mona Hatoum, it was one of Mona’s first video performances.

Mona Hatoum’s video performance on the first evening of the exhibition, displayed the concepts of gender bending and her desire to look behind the surface of social constructs. Hatoum pointed her video camera directly to the audience in a full house of punters, who experienced an optical trickery. She panned up and down the rows very slowly focusing on parts of their bodies, faces, arms, legs and crotches appeared on a monitor in front of them. Hatoum broke through the anonymity of the audience, introducing an almost voyeuristic pleasure of seeing oneself and other members of the audience as a performer. This illusion culminated when parts of naked bodies suddenly appeared on the screen. The audience’s initial reaction was that Hatoum had some sort of x-ray device in the camera and that made the audience feel threatened and violated. This fear turned into good humours when the same naked parts kept appearing on the screen over and over again. Hatoum had in fact three assistants behind the screen using another camera, mixing the bodies of the audience with their own naked bodies.

That was the time when Hatoum experimented with the issue of surveillance and the concept of this performance was born right after the rejection of a similar proposal for an exhibition at the ICA and at SLADE. In the late 70’s and beginning of 80’s Battersea Arts Centre was a very radical art exhibition space. Artists like Bruce McLean and Mona Hatoum found a home to present their avant garde art at the time.

Don't Smile, You're on Camera, 1980
11' , Betacam, PAL, noir et blanc, son
Collection Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris (France)

John Archer's Centenary: WWI and The Town Hall

100 years ago, on November 10th 1913, John Archer was elected as the 10th Mayor of Battersea. This achievement was also a momentous triumph for equality, with Archer becoming London’s first black mayor. Born in 1863, Archer is famed for his political passion, particularly his campaigns for workers' rights, improved local living conditions and the removal of young people from the workhouse. One particularly heated argument saw Archer seized by his head and feet and ejected from the Council Chamber.

Much of the press surrounding John Archer’s mayoral campaign was speculation regarding his ancestry. The Daily Telegraph reported that “his features and colouring are eloquent of his origin, but his conversation shows no trace of accent, and he is a man of good education”, whilst The News Chronicle wrote that Archer had “the bronzed skin and black hair of a Hindu or Parsee – he laughingly declines to say to what race he belongs, but one might place his forebears among the lighter people of India – and his well-dressed, well-groomed appearance is that of a busy and prosperous business man”. Indeed, Archer is easy to spot in the photograph below, stood to the far right, the only man not to sport a dark suit.

During his election speech, Archer announced to the crowds "You have made history tonight. For the first time in the history of the English nation, a man of colour has been elected as mayor of an English borough. That news will go forth to all the coloured nations of the world and they will look at Battersea, and say 'It is the greatest thing you have done. You have shown that you have no racial prejudice, but recognise a man for what you think he has done.” This powerful speech was still not enough to quiet many sceptics. Archer finally declared to have been born “in a little obscure village in England probably never heard of until now - the city of Liverpool”.

Less than a year after his election, World War I shook the town of Battersea. The Town Hall played a vital role within the borough, becoming a recruiting office, with a stall outside offering free Woodbine cigarettes to all the men who signed up. The Lower Hall became a scheduled air raid shelter, whilst the Council Chamber became a courtroom, trialling conscientious objectors. 25 town hall workers died, commemorated by a plaque in our upper corridors. 

This letter documents John Archer's efforts to instruct local residents about the events leading up to the war. At BAC we remember Archer for his humour, fire and determination to bring about change, and remember those who lost their lives both in Battersea and beyond, during World War I.

Exploring the Archive: Staff Favourites

However you've made use of Battersea Arts Centre, be you a coffee sipper or Bee's Knees nipper, our artists or our audience, you’ll have noticed that there is something just a bit special about our building. It might be the shiny new sign that lures you inside, the sumptuous smells from the café, or the mosaic floor buzzing about your feet, but it’s hard to step into BAC without the overwhelming feeling that this is the kind of place where history is made… and indeed it is!

It can be quite unbelievable that so much could occur beneath one roof. In the same room that air raid warden Elsie Young’s fingers blistered from gripping a pencil, newly-weds now share their first dance and downward facing dogs escape the bustle of Battersea for a stolen moment of tranquillity. From The Blitz to brides, organs to Orpheus, and poetry to protest, we want to shake out the dust sheets from our past and make all this incredible history a little more tangible. Over the upcoming weeks, we’ll be asking our staff to select their favourite tales from the archive, shining a spotlight on the lesser known stories of our Town Hall home.

This week we begin with Jo Hunter, Capital and Strategy Consultant:
My favourite are the notes from Elsie Young when the bombs were falling on Lavender Hill. They are so evocative and give such a clear picture of what it must have been like. It makes you able to, in some small way, put yourself in her shows. Her detailed description of her bleeding fingers makes your spine shudder... lest we forget.

Listen to Elsie's oral history at our 120 Years of Battersea Town Hall exhibition in the Waiting Room, or read more about her time as an air raid precaution warden here.