Category: CULTURE (2022)

Writer Laura Mills / Photographer Maddie Cottam-Allan

 
Now for me, this is my first Pride festival so I really went into it not exactly sure what to expect, but with open eyes awaiting the celebration to be loud and proud.

Walking around the city centre of Brum I see Pride flags all over, the streets are packed but the atmosphere is great as everyone heads down into the Gay Village. Once I’m down there it’s just packed with colour and life.

It’s a sea of people everywhere but every single person looks so happy – like pure happiness and joy across everyone’s faces. Even when they’re queuing for wristbands or drinks, it doesn’t seem to have dampened their spirits.

 
As I’m walking down the parade it’s weird, I don’t think I’ve ever had a feeling like this before, a feeling of complete belonging surrounded by people who don’t quite fit the boxes we’ve been socialised into. It’s not just belonging, I feel safe – completely and utterly safe.

Finally making the way through the parade, I turn the corner to Smithfield Live. Walking through the security I notice loads of posters talking about Pride with ‘BAB’ on giving it that signature Birmingham style.

 
Entering the main bit of the festival there’s music pumping, people all over dressed in bright colours, rainbows, big hair. People from every walk of life including couples and families.

I see Drag Queens everywhere I turn, and they all slay; they all look fabulous but also very unique too.

 
The busyness, hustle and bustle of day-to-day life appears to have drifted out of me the second I entered the arena. From here on out it’s parties and celebrations, smiles, and sunshine.

It’s so rare to walk through anywhere freely and without judgement, but that’s exactly how Pride felt for me.

 
For more from Birmingham Pride go to: www.birminghampride.com

Writer Jasmine Khan / Photographer Maddie Cottom-Allan

 
I’m wearing all black to this year’s Birmingham Pride which marks “25 years of pride & protest” across our fair city. As fishy queens, fat queens, disabled queens, melanated queens, and ENBY queens from MOBILISE lead the charge, lathered in carnival technicolour like birds of paradise, I feel a bit like a sad crow.

However, then comes the Poundland float – amongst a number of other irrelevant corporations – and my outfit is suddenly fitting. Companies that don’t mention queerness outside of Pride month do seem to saturate our street parade, one of the few free events still available to queer Brummies across the weekend.

To paraphrase LIL BAB, why are we giving these organisations the space to be performative allies? Maybe that’s why most of my friends don’t come to Pride anymore.

 
The parade still moves me to tears (although that could be the post pre-Pride hangxiety) and it is important to mention that not every float is a thrusting rainbow capitalist dildo on wheels. There are kids sitting on their parent’s shoulders wrapped up in Pride flags, leather daddies, dog masks, queer joy, and some serious top energy about the place.

Unsurprising, considering Brum is fresh off the back of a double UK Drag Race win on last Thursday’s Season 4 premiere, courtesy of the iconic Black Peppa.

Photographer Maddie and I hit up the Community Stage first because that’s what we’re about at BR (spoiler alert, Maddie will have a serious allergic reaction on Sunday morning and won’t be able to shoot on day two). Alas, for now the Community Stage and Maddie are prepped and popping off with the provocative nature of everyone’s outfits in fierce competition.

 
I’m just in time for dancers/performers Rajan Das, Emily, and Joey Taylor. It might be drizzling outside, but it just got steamy in here. With a combination of hip hop, ballet, and ballroom choreography (you know which one) these immaculately dressed queers evoke “ooos” and “ahhs” galore, as well as plenty of supportive screams from yours truly.

Rajan says: “It’s such a crazy and wild time. It is pretty manic, but I love performing and dancing so it’s quite the dream to be performing during a festival that truly means a lot to me.”

 
Next up, it’s Blü Romantic who I will continue to claim is Joe Lycett dressed-up as Freddie Mercury, crossed with a Smurf. They are pretty sassy about their reception as they take the stage, repeatedly demanding more and more applause. Then, sass melts into song.

Blü Romantic might be a tad show girl, but they’re not too shabby.

 
Head over to Smithfield Live, and one of the sponsors GAYDIO (brilliant name) is heavily present in the dance tent. This space is fuller than I’d expect for the middle of the day and there’s plenty of bump and grind to go around, thanks to Gay Garage and Mix-Stresss.

No one’s tried to dance with me yet, so it might be time to lose the abya and show off my new harness and sports bra combo.

As I leave tent number one and take a wander through the arena space, I can’t keep my eyes still. It’s Willy Wonker’s chocolate factory but with more dicks. Every kind of sweet is available along with tacos, pizza, fans, flags, and obviously plenty of bars.

 
That being said, I know Sober Pride is currently underway for those queers who want a more chill way to celebrate.

Once I’ve made my way through the various stalls and bars, I get to the heart of Pride – the main stage. The main stage isn’t as busy as the dance tent, but for me it’s truly astounding to hear the sound of queer Bollywood as the bouncers – who are delightful all day – let Maddie and I into the VIP section, which spans the entire width of the stage and goes back about 10 meters.

I’m not sure the platinum gays needed this much space, and the set ups really stunting the community vibes, as well as spreading the crowd thin.

 
Regardless, HUNGAMA’s set is an explosion of colour and the perfect balance between traditional and modern South Asian music, art, and dance, wrapped up in the most to die for sarees.

Every Asian person in the audience is taking the opportunity to strut their stuff a little, and a murder of drag queens stand off to the right drooling at the Bollywood drama on stage.

 
Led by BBC Three host Ryan Lanji, whose relentless energy and emotion fills the currently sparse VIP area, Bolly-Illusion, Miss Tikka, and several other incredible artists whose names I cannot find for the life of me, steal my soul for a minute.

As I twist my heels and wrists, twirling around in the unbuttoned abya my cousin gave me for Eid, I think about how blessed I am to have come out to my dad this year. Then how much trouble I’d be in if he saw what I was wearing (or indeed not wearing) under my abya.

There are still so many South Asian and POC communities that don’t feel like they fit in at Pride. Ensuring collectives like HUNGAMA take centre stage is key and makes a real difference.

 
Switching it up, I pop over to the Conrad Guest Cabaret Stage that’s seemingly dripping in (who would have guessed it?) more queens. One of them is on stage in velvet blue, cinched at the waist.

Miss Lola Lasagna is singing ABBA flapping a fan that says ‘FUCK THE TORIES’, which shouldn’t be hard with the Conservative conference round the corner… but it’s not for me.

Miss Lola Lasagna is a bit of me. Even though she’s a smidge fromage, she’s everything you’d want from classic, comedic, interactive drag.

 
Back to the dance tent and it is old skool garage banger after old skool garage banger with DJ Luck & MC Neat. There’s a migraine skank challenge which results in four people getting up on stage, although I’m pretty sure only three were invited.

MC Neat refuses to call a winner, though we all know who it is. Then there are kids and what I think are peacock inspired balloons on the stage.

It’s getting a bit ridiculous, but I don’t think I’ll be leaving this tent for some time – there’s too much arse shaking and finger guns.

 
It’s only 7pm and I’ve still got plenty of glitter in the heels of my DMs, looking around and taking in the entirety of the spread, I’m slightly more understanding about why you might need to take out a mortgage to get into the main weekend Pride events (not that I did).

It’s not just Pride, it’s Pride the Festival and a testament to how far we’ve come. While there isn’t much protest, we’re partying in peace, and perhaps that’s a protest in itself.

 
Back to the Cabaret Stage and I’m thrilled to be welcomed yet again by locals Rajan and Emily, this time supporting the tantalising Miss Kenya Knott. The raw energy coming for this trio is immense as they cover classic Beyoncé tracks like ‘Summer Renaissance’.

Even with Beyoncé’s spiritual presence in the tent, it’s still a tie over who’s the biggest and baddest queen up on stage. Miss Knott, Emily, and Rajan all throw it back, bend it over, snap it, and dust it off as the crowd eats up every crumb. Hunny! We. Are. Obsessed.

At 10:30pm (9 ½ hours since I arrived) our long awaited headliner Becky Hill comes to the main stage.

 
Taking a power stance right at the front of the stage, her affirmative voice rings out through the crowd accompanied by bass, confetti, and the odd firework. In a full sequin suit she’s definitely dressed for her audience and as Maddie turns to me smiling, neither of us have got a clue about the journalistic challenges we’ll face on day two.

Still, what a stunning first day at Pride it has been.

Birmingham Pride 2002 – Saturday 24 September / Maddie Cottam-Allan

For more from Birmingham Pride go to: www.birminghampride.com 

For more from Fatt Projects and MOBALISE go to: www.fattprojects.org
For more from Rajan Das go to: www.uk.linkedin.com/in/rajan-das
For more from Emily go to: www.instagram.com/emlayting
For more from Joey Taylor go to: www.instagram.com/joeyalantaylor
For more from Blü Romantic go to: www.instagram.com/bluromantic
For more from Gay Garage go to: www.outsavvy.com/gay-garage
For more from Mix-Stresss go to: www.soundcloud.com/rebz-1
For more from Sober Pride go to: www.solcafebrum/sober-pride-is-coming/
For more from HUNGAMA go to: www.outsavvy.com/organiser/hungama
For more from Ryan Lanji go to: www.ryanlanji.com
For more from Miss Tikka go to: www.instagram.com/saya_tikka
For more from Bolly-Illusion go to: www.outsavvy.com/organiser/bolly-illusion
For more from Lola Lasagne go to: www.twitter.com/misslolalasagne
For more from DJ Luck & MC Neat go to: www.djluckandmcneat.com
For more from Miss Kenya Knott go to: www.instagram.com/misskenyaknott
For more from Becky Hill go to: www.beckyhill.com

Writer Reece Greenfield / Photographer Maddie Cottom-Allan & Reece Greenfield

We’re all no doubt feeling a lot of fear and uncertainty over rising energy bills, inflation, and economic uncertainty. We’ve no doubt heard (and likely seen) evidence of the swathes of strike action across the country. Indeed, Birmingham has been no stranger to this due to the RMT’s strike action beginning on the day before the Commonwealth Games held here from 28 July to 8 August and continuing indefinitely.

In the wake of the announcement of rail strikes by the RMT, TSSA, and ASLEF (and a string of media appearances by the charismatic Mick Lynch and Eddie Dempsey), ASLEF represented train drivers have held pickets and the CWU balloted Royal Mail staff who voted 96.7% in favour of strikes, on a turnout of 77%.

In addition to this, workers at the UK’s largest container port represented by Unite began an eight day strike last weekend, the TUC have launched a campaign to raise the minimum wage to £15, and a ballot is set to run from 15 September until 13 October asking members of the Royal College of Nurses to consider strike action.

In light of these far reaching strikes, I’m sure we’ve also no doubt heard conflicting attitudes towards the industrial action being taken this summer and more generally.

One of the most prevalent narratives is that of selfishness, arguing workers on strike are only looking out for themselves at the expense of everybody else, specifically, other working people. And it’s easy to see how people can arrive at this opinion.

Strikes disrupt our commutes, ruin our holiday plans and halt entire sections of our economy.

However, UK work forces are somewhat driven to these drastic measures because revenue strikes such as those currently being practised in Australia – where services continue but workers do not accept payment from customers – would result in Trade Unions being liable to pay extensive damages to companies in accordance with the Employment Act (1982).

Therefore, the withdrawal of labour is one of few tactics available and what I want to stress is that, when strikers gain benefits through collective bargaining, all of us benefit. It is not just union members who benefit from wage increases, improvements in terms and conditions, and other rights won through collective action.

Furthermore, when one sector strikes and gains this is an encouragement to other sectors, which is one of the reasons why there has been a snowball effect and why the establishment are so determined to smear picketing workers.

I, myself, am a trade union member. Despite working for the local authority since 2014, I have only been a paid-up member of Unite the Union since 2020. Before my time as a union member, I was an agency worker for over a year and a half, during which time I was forced to cross a picket for fear of losing my job.

Along with my own experience, I’m sure I speak for many of us when I think on how younger people working in hospitality have been, and are being, systematically shafted. We’ve all been there for friends lamenting the never-ending string of ‘AFDs’ and the dreaded close/open: Finishing at 3am to then be in at 10am the following day, which is a direct infringement of a worker’s entitlement to 11 hours between shifts.

Often our working friends are so burnt out they barely have time to cook and so are required to get food delivered from Uber Eats or Deliveroo by similarly exploited and underappreciated workers, the responsibility for whose work and pay falls entirely on themselves. Such is the plight of the ‘self-employed’.

Indeed, hospitality workers are some of the most insecure… oh sorry… ‘flexible’ workers in the economy and with ‘service charges’ and other policies rife across establishments, hoovering up tips to the top, our mates are struggling through the month with less money and less time for themselves.

Only approximately 4% of hospitality workers are union members (though this has been steadily rising). I attribute it mostly to the fact we are living in the wake of a political and economic change of climate, where the Thatcher government of 1979 – 1990 defanged unions ending the post-war consensus. As a result, many young working people today (and indeed their parents) are somewhat unaware of the importance of a unionised workforce.

But let’s not be completely dreary, union membership is on the rise and recent polling shows that a majority of Britons see the recent rail strikes as justified in the face of an onslaught from Tory politicians, legacy media pundits, and a lacklustre response from an overly cautious Labour party.

My young Brummie comrades, Trade Union membership obviously costs, and in the current climate people are concerned about an increase in their monthly expenditure. Yet, I urge you to consider it nonetheless, and to think of it as a form of insurance and community in this uncertain and exploitative age.

I urge you to show solidarity with all workers (not just those in your sector/union). We are all in this together and what benefits one, benefits us all.

For a list of/links to all Trade Unions registered in the UK visit www.gov.uk/government/publications/public-list-of-active-trade-unions-official-list-and-schedule/trade-unions-the-current-list-and-schedule

Writer Harry Croxford / Photographer Jessica Whitty

Abdulrazaq Awofeso is a Nigerian artist and sculptor. He utilises the potential of a seemingly innocuous form of object intimately tied to globalised trade: the pallet. More precisely, he uses the scavenged wood from pallets, lathered in striking and saturated hues of acrylic paint, as his medium.

Awofeso’s work situates itself within a nexus of themes: the migration of capital and its waste by-products, the comparatively restricted migration of peoples, and the community identities behind such processes of global circulation.

His approach is restitutive, additive – pallets are broken apart into fragments, then sawn, sanded, reshaped. This deconstruction that leads to construction is a feature of Awofeso’s work, and it foregrounds the relationship between communities and material.

In Awofeso’s art, identity emerges in sanded, painted, figurations reminding us of the human behind the often-abstract processes of exchange, logistics, transport, and so on.

And Awofeso’s work itself is, likewise, global. Prior to his move to Birmingham, Awofeso exhibited at the Dakar Biennale (2016), STEVENSON Cape Town (2016), and, more recently, Museum Arnhem (2020), among others.

He now brings his work to Ikon. As part of their Arrivals programme, running between 10 June and 29 August, Awofeso’s solo exhibition OUT OF FRAME is spread across the familiar second floor of the gallery and unifies thematic strands concerning global waste, communities, and identities.

In the piece, ‘Komole (Bridal Train)’ which is painted on scrap wood, four figures emerge from a background of wooden planks.

Staples visibly stitch these boards together, serving as the background to four figures, emotive and joyous. These sutured boards are painted over in vivid display. Awofeso manages to capture a dynamism through this playful collation of hue and flowing form, informed by his incessant curiosity about others.

This curiosity is most tangible in the works ‘Komole’ shares a space with: ‘Do You Know Who I Am’. Question or statement? The work’s title prompts us to consider the thirty-one portraits, and the identities of those depicted that scatter the walls.

The viewer is met with a selection of many-coloured portraits, richly saturated colours – ochres, deep reds, violets – line the rest of the gallery in variegating fashion. Still acrylic paint, still on pallet wood. However, no longer are the boards themselves visible. The staples are still there across these many faces, but the wood is shaped and smooth.

These portraits are individual, characterful, and they originate from Awofeso’s past interactions during his return from Lagos to Birmingham in 2021. On this trip he, and his fellow passengers, were held in Amsterdam following the UK bans on arrivals from Nigeria due to Covid-19.

He restores identity and character to the government’s reduction of these individuals to statistics, mere potential risks. As the title of the exhibition indicates, Awofeso’s artistic gaze is on that which is considered ‘out of frame’.

Each figure is therefore, importantly, named. One ‘Headmistress’ smirks at the viewer, her teal goggles and shirt complementing the vivid yellow of her complexion. Another, ‘Blinder’, who dons an ochre suit stares out from beneath his flatcap – a figure those from Birmingham are sure to recognise.

And ‘Robert the Optimist’, his two-shade shirt recalling that of the La Sape’s noted by Awofeso as a cultural influence. He looks out contentedly, embodying his cognomen.

I suspect, here, that the most powerful thematic counterpoints arise when viewing Awofeso’s portraits. Once aware of the material, the pallet wood, and the background to these portraits – one can’t help but contrast the differing forms of migration here.

Our experience of goods on shop shelves is, often, like manna shorn from their origins, the many borders crossed, actors involved, and the circumstances of production are overlooked, they are almost miraculous. In this apparent instantaneity of the imported goods, it is all too easy to forget this complex supply chain and, consequently, of the identities and faces involved.

It is here Awofeso’s work explicitly conveys this undercurrent, juxtaposing that of a free and cross-border migration of goods and capital, with that of the border restrictions nation states place on the migration of peoples.

It is notable that one portrait dons a face mask, a reminder perhaps of another consequence of globalisation.

Vibrant colours reflect vibrancy of character. In ‘Skhothane’, for example, drawn from Awofeso’s appreciation of Skhothane subculture, we find plentiful figures on plinths. Again, vibrant colour captures the bashful jubilancy of these characters. Skhothane emerged in post-Apartheid South Africa, where groups of youths destroy valuable material commodities in extravagant dance battles – destruction, turning commodity to waste via performance art, therefore becomes fundamental for affirming the status and identities of these groups involved.

Finally, to one of Awofeso’s most iconic pieces exhibited here: ‘Avalanche of Calm’ – the culmination of this exhibition. The viewer finally arrives at an expansive scattering of miniature figures under the lush blue of the clouds above. Three thousand figures occupy this space, each constructed from this self-same wood; here behind material we have crowds.

From portraiture, to figural forms, to the mass crowd of these anonymised figures – OUT OF FRAME is a vivacious meditation on globalisation. It is concurrent waste products and artistic reappropriation on the faces, place, and cultures behind the abstract flows of global markets.

Awofeso’s OUT OF FRAME is on at Ikon until the 29 August and is free to attend. For more information visit: www.ikon-gallery.org/exhibition/abdulrazaq-awofeso

Visit full details of all Ikon’s exhibitions and events visit: https://www.ikon-gallery.org