A pint-sized homage to 70s punk has popped up in Soho this spring.
Looking more like a boarded-up shopfront than an arts space, Flitcroft Street’s Farsight Gallery is an unassuming venue that would be very easy to walk past if you weren’t in the know; only the letters RRPL spray-painted in capitals above the door indicate what’s inside. But those of a certain generation or musical leaning will be well up to scratch with what’s going on here.
Tying in with the launch of the first RRPL magazine (which is designed to share elements of the archive in a portable format), Mick Jones’ Rock & Roll Public Library offers a glimpse into the mind of one of punk music’s great minds. The display showcases previously unseen material and artefacts from The Clash and Big Audio Dynamite frontman (diaries, figurines, magazine clippings, AAA passes, a guitar, a complete stage outfit, you know the sorts), while celebrating over-the-counter-culture.
The moment you walk into the airy, wood-panelled room, you are confronted with obsolete televisions playing Jones’ home-recorded VHS tapes to the distant hum of Jones’ music. Nestled among the pine wood shelves are battered CDs, records, Polaroid cameras, and various pieces of worn out music equipment. Next to the installation, a makeshift living room has two 70s-style armchairs inviting guests to settle in and flick through the television stations, as if they were back in Harold Wilson’s Britain.
The interactivity extends to a record collection in a recreation of a vintage listening booth, and a visual art installation in the style of a kiosk that sells RRPL magazine and other merchandise such as T-shirts and a signed one-off print. It’s a nice way to complement the various books, comics, and newspapers scattered around the display.
How much time you decide to spend there is completely up to the individual, as you could probably whizz around it in about 15 minutes. But for the die-hard Clash fans, this is a nice glimpse into Jones’s mind. It feels a little bit like he’s cleared out his attic and curated it into an art installation. Which, if you’re a fan of both punk music and Sort Your Life Out, is a dream.
