The atmosphere is tense in the bright room, with its mahogany parquet floors, in the Queen Elizabeth Hall, a cultural venue in London's Southbank. The mix of people gathered together in the meeting-room does not quite fit. There are the men in suits and rimless glasses, carrying folders under their arms and there are the representatives from the skate community on the other side: mostly young men wearing tight jeans, caps and skate brand t-shirts. Two worlds are clashing at this meeting and in other circumstances they would probably not voluntarily gather together but the issue is important; it's about the future of the Southbank Undercroft.
"Why are we here when everything has been decided already?!" Heads are turning in the meeting room. A young man, wearing a bright orange t-shirt emblazoned with "Save Southbank" stands up, his hand is clenched, a disgusted expression on his face. The conference between the skater-community and the officials of the Festival Wing has been underway for an hour but Henry Edward-Woods, 25, can't contain his anger any longer. The noise from the audience swells, the skateboarders, BMX-riders and graffiti artists applaud. The officials from the Southbank Center look lost and hurry to end the meeting - another unsuccessful get-together.
New Festival WingThe reason for the meeting is the plan for the so called Festival Wing which was announced only a month ago. The project includes the refurbishment of the three main venues along the Thames: the Queen Elizabeth Hall, the Purcell Room and Hayward Gallery. Within three years the £120 million project should be completed and provide "more room for Art and Culture," as is stated on the official website. Two-thirds of the budget is already funded by the British Arts Council and private donations. The missing third will be provided by retail shops, especially cafés and restaurants. That is where the problem starts. Companies like Starbucks want to build their stores on the most valuable side of the area, next to the river Thames at ground level. Unfortunately that is where the skate park is located now. Officials from the Festival Wing want the skaters to move and are willing to provide a new area close by at the Hungerford Bridge, only 150 meters away from the current location. Furthermore regular meetings between the skate park community and the people in charge of the Festival Wing have been offered. It sounds transparent and fair - but the skaters are not happy.
Only fake PREdward-Woods, spokesman for the skate park community is angry when he leaves the meeting at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. On his way out he passes a display about the new Festival Wing, which makes him even more furious.
Lavish partition walls show what the Festival Wing is going to look like, with computer animations illustrating the potential future of the area. Instead of the skate park an entranceway is shown on both sides, with cafés à-la-Starbucks squeezed next to each other. It looks dreadful even while the cartoon people laugh and have a great time on screen.
A whole corner is reserved for the skate park issue. On a big screen Mike McCart, the manager of the Southbank Center, explains why the skate park has to be relocated. Words like "financially very important," "maximizing value of the spot" and "most valuable side" stick out. Sad-eyed McCart concludes; "If we are unable to use commercial retail it undermines the whole project which means that we won't have a children and family art centre, or an education center." On one of the flyers it says; "We are consulting with the skateboarding and urban art communities to find a new riverside space for them on the Southbank Center Side."
Leaving the gigantic building Edward-Woods lights his self-rolled cigarette and bids farewell to his colleagues with handshakes. He rubs his eyes, the conversations are exhausting. It was the third meeting with people from the Festival Wing since they have made the construction plans official. "For me it's just a pro forma meeting, they haven't really tried to find a good solution for everyone. They just want to pull it down," he says.
Some aspects of the communication strategy of the Festival Wing really seem bizarre. In order to make an "equitable discourse" possible a team from the Central Saint Martin's Art and Design College (CMS) was hired by, and of course also paid for by the Festival Wing officials. Since then a group of students and lecturers have tried to bring the angry skate community and the Festival Wing officials together to reach a consensus.
Iain Borden, professor for architecture and urban culture at University College in London, is involved in the negotiations. He is critical of the communication managed through CMS; "You could argue that they've been paid to get the Hungerford-Bridge option (the alternative new skate park) move through. That is what the Festival Wing officials would like to have."
But Borden also defends the people in charge of the £120 million project; "My impression is that they don't want to move the skaters but the funding package requires that they explore this. They are trying to do right for the skaters given the difficult situation." The professor sees the potential new skate park spot at the Hungerford-Bridge as a good alternative. "If the owner of Southbank would be Network Rail (the national railway company in England) they would stick up two fingers to the skateboarders saying: 'That's it! You've been freeloading for 40 years - now fuck off!' So, the skaters are very lucky to be offered an alternative."
Most of the skateboarders, BMXers and graffiti writers don't share Borden's opinion and don't want to move - come what may.
David vs. GoliathOn Britain's first bank holiday in May the sidewalks along the Southbank are crowded, packed, with Londoners and tourists. And no wonder, the weather is very un-British - warm and sunny. The air is filled with chitchat and the smells from the stalls selling organic food. While the flow of people force their way from Waterloo Station to London Bridge you see many pause on their journey. The sound of trundles and hip-hop music gets louder. A crowd of people gather at the barriers at the Undercroft to have a good view of the skaters and BMX-riders of all ages who gather together to try new tricks and astonish the crowd at the barriers with breath-taking leaps.
The skate community has organized a 'Save Southbank' festival today. Young cool-looking people wearing bright orange shirts bearing the logo "Long Live Southbank" swarm the crowd and try to get the curious onlookers to sign the petition to save the Undercroft.
"32,000 have signed already and today we will definitely get many more," says Nick Jensen, 28, cheerfully with his bright British accent. His career as a professional skater started here at Southbank. At age 14 he came all the way from London's suburbs to skate, meet people, and hang around. "Now I have even started my own skateboard company with five friends I used to skate here with." With affection the tall redhead looks at the Southbank Undercroft. Stories like his are common at Southbank. But memories aren't enough to save the skate park.
A unique spotIt's legitimate to question what is so special about the skate park at Southbank. Andrew Simmons, now over 40 years old, raises his eyebrows when confronted with that question. He was one of the first to skate here in the 70s. The photographer has even brought a photo showing him with long hair riding an old school long board at the Undercroft. For him there are many reasons why the place can't be just moved somewhere else. "It's like you say you have been living in this house for 40 years. 'Don't worry we're going to build you a similar house just at the end of the road.' That's bullshit - It's gonna be completely different," he says. "And then think about the historical significance here; we're talking about 40 years of British skateboarding! Seriously, the whole British skate scene was established here."
Edward-Woods is sitting next to Simmons on the ground of the Undercroft covered with neon-coloured painting, and points out the unique architecture of the Southbank Undercroft. "The setting here is absolutely brilliant. Do you hear that sound?" He stops talking and points at a passing skateboard. "It's a unique sound you only have here. Even the underground is perfectly smooth for skateboarding." Edward-Woods loves to skate at the Undercroft knowing that above the space gigantic venues soar into the air. "It's like you're skating underneath a belly of a gigantic dinosaur and because of the floor you get a different kind of compression." Simmons seems amused by the younger man and starts laughing. "Actually, he is right! It's a unique feeling even if I wouldn't have explained it with a dinosaur," he says.
EndgameAt the end of the Bank holiday weekend the rattling of skateboard wheels has ceased and few people stand at the barriers of the Undercroft. It has started to rain again. Edward-Woods brushes the wet hair away from his forehead. "Even though it seems that we fight like Don Quixote against windmills, we will not give up this spot." His words sound resolute but many of the skaters are sure the battle is already over. The local councillors have already decided in favour of the project and a 'call-in' is scarcely to be expected.
What will materalize after the rebuilding of the Festival Wing for the skaters, BMX-riders and graffiti writers is uncertain. Only one thing is for sure; Southbank will not be the same as before, with or without the Undercroft skate park.
