Stuart Linden Rhodes is a photographer and writer who captured gay and lesbian nightlife in 1990s Northern England. Stuart’s Instagram account @linden_archives features hundreds of posed and candid shots from a time and place in lesbian and gay history that, without it, would be unseen today. In fact, Stuart’s Instagram account was discovered by director Joseph Ingham, who convinced Stuart to compile his photographs into a book while interviewing him for VICE.
We spoke to Stuart about his work, the ‘90s gay and lesbian scene in Northern England and what he perceived to be the lesbian role in the community.
Sukey RS: One of the aspects I love most about your work is how it documents the lesbian and gay scene in Northern England. London has often been seen as the centre for British LGBT people but there is history all across the country. How did these often smaller communities develop while you were present and what was the solidarity between lesbians and gay men in these spaces like?
Stuart Linden Rhodes: The early 90s was the start of the Northern gay scene having its own ‘coming out’ party. Manchester gay village grew out the couple of gay bars, such as the Rembrandt, Goose and Napoleons, into pretty much the village you see today. Progress was slow but once the big breweries started cashing in on the pink pound, as we called it, the growth sped up. Away from Manchester, the smaller towns such as Barnsley, Halifax and Hull had their own local bar or two which thrived throughout the 90s, but often saw those who could travel head to Manchester and Blackpool or Birmingham at the weekends.
The language was very different then, Queer was a term of abuse used by the straight homo haters. I don’t believe a person can be homophobic, you can’t develop a phobia of homosexuals, you can be a hater.
Our language was about gay men and women, lesbians, drag queens and bisexuals. Even trans was not as high profile then as it should have been in the language. One thing for certain was that we stood shoulder to shoulder, be it at pride events or in the bars and clubs. We looked out for each other, we partied together and we shared the space together as one. So yes there was good solidarity between lesbians and gay men.
SRS: In another interview, you mentioned that “there appears to be a lot of self-imposed segregation now. Back then there was less of an agenda.” Would you be able to explain this further and describe the changes you have seen in the LGBT community?
SLR: There was very much less of an agenda. We were coping with attacks from the government in the form of Clause 28 and fighting for equal age of consent for gay men. Remember there was no law against lesbianism: Queen Victoria didn’t believe women would do such a thing. We fought inequality under one flag, the rights to adopt, to marry, and for same-sex couples of all genders to be recognised in law. Today it seems individual groups are demanding recognition under their own amazing array of flags. Yes all groups need to be recognised and their specific needs addressed but let’s remember we are all one, that is where our strength is. It is exciting to see the rise in trans rights and recognition for bisexuals but in the process have lesbians and gay men disappeared under the banner of simply being queers?
SRS: The LGBT community has also changed due to the influence of the ‘pink pound’ and rainbow capitalism. Are you able to point to a time when you started to realise this was happening? How were these changes viewed by those around you?
SLR: Before the rise of the pink pound and rainbow capitalism, Northern gay bars were predominantly shabby under-funded back-street affairs, in serious need of refurbishment. I would often write in my reviews about bars that hadn’t been decorated for 30 years and where your feet would stick to the carpet. Whilst round the corner the same brewery was refurbing straight bars seemingly every week. It was around 1993 onwards that, thanks to the rise of visibility of gay communities in the likes of Birmingham and Manchester, especially with huge pride events, breweries realised there were all these single LGBT people with no kids and seemingly lots of cash to spend on partying. Suddenly the bars were refurbished, more bars opened and competition increased in attracting the pink pounds. This was great for the big gay centres and we saw the birth of more identifiable gay communities in the likes of Liverpool, Nottingham and Newcastle amongst others. Whilst this was great for the big centres, the downside was that some towns saw their local gay scene diminish as people headed off to the bright lights at weekends instead of staying local. Scenes such as in Leeds didn’t grow to their full potential because of its proximity to Manchester.
SRS: Your photography takes place under Clause 28 and you have previously mentioned how that affected your work. Could you tell us about the impacts that this homophobic legislation had on the lesbian and gay scene around you?
SLR: Clause 28 was about not promoting homosexuality primarily in educational settings but also in youth clubs, churches and anywhere else underage youth may be. I had a day job in education so to avoid any possible conflict with my employers, I used a different name for my scene reviews and photographs. Did it have much impact on the scene? For me, not really. I didn’t come into contact with my students on the scene primarily because I lived in a market town and the students didn’t travel much in those days. Had I worked in Manchester it might have been more difficult to separate the two.
SRS: Leading on from that, Clause 28 was a massive cause for lesbian and gay people to rally around in terms of activism. Often lesbian acts of advocacy against Clause 28 are not remembered as clearly in the present (some of my favourites being both the storming of the BBC Six O’Clock News and the abseiling into the House of Lords). Are there any examples of lesbian-specific activism that happened around you?
SLR: The most memorable for me was in Manchester at the Pink Picnic around 1992 when Lily Savage, aka Paul O’Grady, pointed out to the crowd that stood on the wall watching proceedings were some plain clothes police officers. The crowd turned and surged towards the police who retreated to their unmarked car and tried to drive off. Too late, as a lesbian couple threw themselves on the car bonnet and embraced in a passionate and lasting kiss. I was lucky enough to manage to capture the image and to this day it is one of my favourite photographs.
SRS: You were also deep within the community during the height of the AIDS crisis in the UK. How did AIDS activism intersect with the nightlife in Northern England? Was there a lesbian role in the activism?
SLR: The scene then was all too aware of AIDS, more so than it seems to be today. Red ribbons were part of the wardrobe on a night out and hardly a night went by, at a drag show, where the bucket wasn’t passed around for donations to local AIDS charities. Bars would run offers on drinks where donations from sales went to the charities and in Manchester the gay bars worked closely together to raise funds and support those affected and the charity that supported them. This helped create the Village Charity which was a huge presence in its heyday. The lesbian community were very much involved, remember we were one flag one community, helping raise funds and volunteering with the charities: not only men get AIDS.
You can find Stuart on Instagram @linden_archives and Twitter @ArchiveLinden
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