"The exhibition challenges traditional punk narratives by placing the women
who helped shape the movement at the centre of the story: not as
footnotes to punk history, but as some of its defining creative forces." [1]
I.
Last week I went to a private viewing of the current exhibition showing at the Museum of Youth Culture [2]. God Save the Queens brings together rare and previously unseen artwork, photography, and personal archival material celebrating the women who shaped punk's look, sound, and cultural history.
The exhibition is curated by Up Yours! - a non-profit, multimedia and cultural collective founded by Celeste Bell and others [3] to honour punk rock's female pioneers, who are now characterised as she-punks, whereas, back in the day, they were known by the rather less savage and much prettier sounding title of punkettes [4].
According to the Up Yours! mission statement, the aim is to "preserve, celebrate, and spotlight the under-appreciated music, literature, film, fashion, and visual art of women who shaped punk and DIY counterculture over the last 50 years".
Which is all very admirable, though I would challenge the premise that the role played by women in punk - and the artwork produced by them - has been underappreciated or overlooked. It's Westwood, not McLaren, whom the fashion world idolises and I would suggest more people are familiar with the faces of Jordan and Soo Catwoman than those of Cook and Jones.
II.
But let's not quibble on this point. It's clear that the curators of the exhibition are pushing this tired narrative and continue to derive a certain amount of speaker's benefit [5] from it, so good luck to 'em!
What concerned me more is how the show recreates a boring class system, with all the stars and usual suspects given centre stage (or, in this case, wall space). Meanwhile, actual punk youth is tokenistically given a couple of small boards on which to share their images and stories. For me, this goes against the punk ethos where 'anyone could be a Sex Pistol' and the audience mattered as much - if not more - than the performers.
In other words, my real issue with God Save the Queens is how easily a counterculture built on the erasure of hierarchy has been restratified [6] and - what's that word the Situationists liked to use? - ah yes, récupérated [7]. And recuperated with the curatorial connivance of the children of the punk revolution!
III.
Having said that - and here's the twist - I enjoyed the exhibition and because I wanted to memorialise an old friend, I even have a photo included in it myself [8]. And so I am, arguably, at some level complicit with - or at the very least caught within the wheels of - the culture industry's recuperative nostalgia.
Similarly, thanks to my involvement with the Punk Scholars Network and the Subcultures Interest Group, I'm an uneasy collaborator with the academic recuperation of punk [9].
Notes
[1] This quote is taken from the exhibition's promotional material and curatorial statement, framing God Save the Queens as a radical reclamation of space. As we shall see, the reality on the gallery walls tells a somewhat different story.
[2] Just a few minutes' walk from Camden Road station, the Museum of Youth Culture moved to its now permanent location at 51 St. Pancras Way, London NW1 in June of this year, after operating previously as a pop-up museum in various temporary spaces.
[3] Filmmaker and writer Celeste Bell is the daughter of Poly Styrene, which explains why the exhibition is primarily dedicated to the legacy of the late singer, songwriter, and frontwoman of X-Ray Spex. Ms Bell co-founded Up Yours! with Lauren Estelle Jones (yes, Mick's daughter) and the writer, musician and punk professor Vivien Goldman.
While Bell and Jones cannot help being the children of punk royalty, we cannot ignore how this lineage grants them the institutional access and cultural authority to determine the narrative. The paradox of an egalitarian counterculture being archived and gatekept by a hereditary hierarchy is central to the exhibition's structural tension.
[4] The term she-punk was coined by Helen Reddington and later popularised by Vivien Goldman as an alternative to punkette and is presumably meant to sound a bit more spiky and savage, although it does make me think of Jennifer Walters and we might question this rejection of the feminine diminutive form; does it mark a victory for women or might it not be seen as an unintended reinforcement of the masculine?
[5] This phrase, coined by Michel Foucault, is a critical component of his critique of l'hypothèse répressive. In brief, certain groups and individuals love believing they have been repressed and marginalised because it yields le bénéfice du locuteur - that is to say, an immediate emotional and political reward that one receives simply by daring to speak openly about a taboo subject or some past injustice. In this case, the Up Yours! Collective want to pretend they are defying the patriarchy and refusing to be silenced - as if they are outside of power and ushering in a liberated and more diverse, equitable, and inclusive future. And they do so with rather ridiculous moral solemnity that the original punks would have been appalled by.
In sum, speaker's benefit gives the gratification of feeling like a rebel simply by talking about something that power structures and institutions actually want you to talk about and provide the material resources that enable you to do so. See Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality 1: The Will to Knowledge, trans. Robert Hurley (Penguin Books, 1998).
[6] The sociological concept of restratification refers to the process of a movement such as punk shifting from a flat, egalitarian ideal back into a strict hierarchy. According to Robert Michels, there is an iron law of oligarchy determining this outcome.
Thus, as we see at the God Save the Queens exhibition, there are professionally taken photographs of punk icons (the creators and trendsetters) individually framed and carefully hung on the walls, signifying that the subject has cultural value and historical importance (not to mention aura and agency). And then there are snapshots of punk fans (the consumers and fashion followers) randomly collaged together on boards so that their individuality is reduced and they serve only to provide a little authenticity to the event.
Of course, to be fair to the curators, there was always a punk elite and in order for a museum to put on an exhibition of something as chaotic as punk they have to make it intelligible to a viewing public and so naturally apply their own bureaucratic (and commercial) metrics; identify the leaders and the marketable faces, etc.
[7] Recuperation is the process by which politically radical ideas and images are co-opted and commodified by the powers that be, thereby neutralising them. In this case, it's the appropriation of punk (and youthful rebellion) by the culture industry.
[8] The picture is of Lorrie Millington - see the sister post to this one titled 'Lorrie and the She-Punks' (30 Oct 2026).
[9] See the post titled 'On Torn Edges and the Need to Archive' (25 March 2024) in which I share thoughts on the PSN. And to access a number of posts that detail my involvement with SIG and its annual publication SIG News go to torpedotheark.blogspot.com/search/label/subcultures%20interest%20group
[10] Lyrics from 'We Are All Prostitutes', by The Pop Group, (Rough Trade, 1979).
