Documenting Euphoria: Peter J. Walsh’s RAVE ONE and the Rise of UK Rave Culture

Peter J Walsh Rave One 90s Photography

Peter J. Walsh was an eye­wit­ness to one of the most trans­for­ma­tive moments in mod­ern British youth cul­ture: the birth of acid house and the UK rave scene as a whole. With his long-term pho­to project RAVE ONE, Walsh offers a vis­cer­al, on-the-ground chron­i­cle of the late 1980s and ear­ly 1990s acid house and rave move­ment, par­tic­u­lar­ly in Man­ches­ter, a city that pulsed at the heart of it all.

Unlike main­stream press pho­tog­ra­phers who cap­tured club cul­ture from a com­fort­able dis­tance, Walsh embed­ded him­self in the crowd, sweat­ing, danc­ing, and doc­u­ment­ing as an insid­er. A most­ly self-trained press pho­tog­ra­ph­er, he took assign­ments for City Life mag­a­zine, and used his cre­den­tials to gain ear­ly access to venues like The Haçien­da, the now-leg­endary night­club that served as a nucle­us for Manchester’s bur­geon­ing rave scene, as well as many venues that came around the time such as the Board­walk, Most Excel­lent, Leg­ends, Precinct 13, Man Alive, The Thun­der­dome, and the Kitchen in Hulme. “The rav­ing didn’t stop, there was always anoth­er par­ty to go to,” Walsh recalls in an inter­view.

But his lens rarely lin­gered on the DJ booth. Walsh was more inter­est­ed in the moments that oth­ers missed: the pre-club nerves in the queue, the secu­ri­ty check past the door, the ecsta­t­ic blur on the dance­floor, and the ensu­ing come­down haze on the curb at dawn. “It was a sig­nif­i­cant moment. I want­ed to pho­to­graph it for myself and not only for the mag­a­zines but doc­u­ment­ing bounc­ers and the back­stage and queues because it was a shift­ing cul­ture.” Walsh says,Some­thing real­ly big was going on here but they didn’t realise how big at the time. I knew it was impor­tant because grow­ing up I used to watch a lot of doc­u­men­taries like The Rolling Stones and see that coun­ter­cul­ture hap­pen­ing so I could see that hap­pen­ing.”

For Walsh, The Haçien­da in par­tic­u­lar was icon­ic, in no small part for its ground­break­ing design cre­at­ed by Ben Kel­ly, which Walsh describes as “so far ahead of its time” but also for its atmos­phere, such that “each time you walked in, you were tak­en on a jour­ney away from the drab, main­ly rainy, dark streets of Man­ches­ter to a new and excit­ing space, where you would expe­ri­ence cut­ting edge music, visu­als and peo­ple”.

Named after the quote from Ivan Chtche­glov’s For­mu­la­ry for a New Urban­ism, famous for becom­ing the slo­gan for the Sit­u­a­tion­ist Inter­na­tion­al, “The Hacien­da Must Be Built,” the club’s rep­u­ta­tion of open­ness and lack of pre­ten­tious­ness attract­ed both reg­u­lar peo­ple and local celebri­ties such as Peter Hook and Bernard Sum­n­er of Joy Division/New Order. In addi­tion to a cafe­te­ria and sev­er­al stages invit­ing music acts beyond the rave scene, the club host­ed a hair salon and a cock­tail bar down­stairs called The Gay Trai­tor, named in hon­or of Antho­ny Blunt, an art his­to­ri­an who worked as a spy for the Sovi­et Union. At one point the Ger­man exper­i­men­tal band Ein­stürzende Neubaut­en came to per­form with their trade­mark impro­vised instru­ments. True to form, part of the per­for­mance includ­ed drilling holes in the club’s walls.

From The Haçienda to the Alleyways: A Raw Archive of Rave Culture

Shot almost entire­ly on black-and-white film and punc­tu­at­ed by the occa­sion­al col­or shots of pierc­ing red and pink lights, RAVE ONE is a body of work defined by its prox­im­i­ty, imme­di­a­cy, and com­plete lack of arti­fice. Walsh didn’t attempt to roman­ti­cize rave cul­ture, he cap­tured it as it was: ecsta­t­ic, chaot­ic, and some­times rough around the edges. His pho­tographs reveal a world tee­ter­ing between eupho­ria and exhaus­tion, rebel­lion and rit­u­al. In that sense, his work makes the expe­ri­ence almost uni­ver­sal, like it could have hap­pened today and now, and we could have been there our­selves.

That hon­esty is exact­ly what sets RAVE ONE apart from oth­er archival rave pho­tog­ra­phy. The images don’t drip with retro nos­tal­gia; they feel uncan­ni­ly cur­rent, even now. There’s a visu­al rhythm in the series that echoes the music of the time: hyp­not­ic, repet­i­tive, with flash­es of inten­si­ty. The pho­tos show what it felt like to be inside a move­ment, not look­ing at it from afar. Ecsta­sy, both the drug and the emo­tion­al state, is ren­dered not through clichés but through moments: sweat-soaked shirts, wide-eyed joy, vacant stares under hot pink club lights. Walsh did­n’t go out of his way to find hall­marks of the time either, the fash­ions peo­ple are wear­ing don’t always scream 90’s. Instead, they just look like things that aver­age peo­ple from any time peri­od would wear when they step out to have a good time. As Walsh remem­bers of the time: “If you went to oth­er clubs in Man­ches­ter you had to wear a jack­et, a shirt and a tie, and the cul­ture was drink­ing with lads stand­ing around the dance­floor and women danc­ing in the mid­dle. You’d get fights because every­one was drunk. When you went to the Haçien­da you could turn up in what you were wear­ing and the space was total­ly dif­fer­ent to all oth­er clubs.”

The Lost Years and Rediscovery

Walsh’s archive lay dor­mant for decades. Like many pho­to­graph­ic works from a pre-dig­i­tal world, the neg­a­tives were stored away, under­val­ued and large­ly unseen. But with a recent resur­gence of inter­est in the roots of UK rave cul­ture, and a broad­er reeval­u­a­tion of the cul­tur­al con­tri­bu­tions of the late 20th cen­tu­ry under­ground, RAVE ONE has found a new audi­ence.

In 2022, RAVE ONE was released as a 168-page pho­to­book, pub­lished by IDEA Books, and quick­ly sold out. Crit­ics and cul­tur­al his­to­ri­ans praised the col­lec­tion not just for its raw aes­thet­ic, but for its anthro­po­log­i­cal val­ue, a doc­u­ment of a youth move­ment that changed music, fash­ion, and nightlife for­ev­er. The project has since been exhib­it­ed at the Saatchi Gallery in Lon­don, the British Cul­ture Archive in Man­ches­ter, and in inde­pen­dent gal­leries abroad, posi­tion­ing Walsh as one of the most impor­tant doc­u­men­tar­i­ans of ear­ly UK rave cul­ture. Cur­rent­ly, the project has found a home in Lon­don’s Muse­um of Youth Cul­ture, the first insti­tu­tion of its kind any­where, and due to open its doors to the pub­lic in Octo­ber of this year.

Beyond the Clubs: A Snapshot of Societal Flux

More than just a par­ty scene, Walsh’s work also hints at the deep­er socio-polit­i­cal under­cur­rents of the time. The late ’80s in the UK were marked by high unem­ploy­ment, the after­math of the min­ers’ strikes, and Mar­garet Thatcher’s increas­ing­ly author­i­tar­i­an grip. Rave cul­ture, fueled by DIY ethics, pirate radio, and an anti-estab­lish­ment atti­tude, emerged in part as a response to these con­di­tions. Walsh men­tions in sev­er­al inter­views that the scene was ini­tial­ly allowed to grow in part because the police had not yet under­stood exact­ly what was hap­pen­ing and were not yet sure how to crack down.

That all changed when the Crim­i­nal Jus­tice and Pub­lic Order Act of 1994, which famous­ly attempt­ed to crim­i­nal­ize gath­er­ings fea­tur­ing music “char­ac­terised by the emis­sion of a suc­ces­sion of repet­i­tive beats,” came into effect, a direct gov­ern­men­tal reac­tion to the pow­er and pop­u­lar­i­ty of the move­ment Walsh was cap­tur­ing in real time. His pho­tos unin­ten­tion­al­ly doc­u­ment the lead-up to a cul­tur­al crack­down, mak­ing them as polit­i­cal­ly sig­nif­i­cant as they are artis­ti­cal­ly.

A Living History

Today, RAVE ONE con­tin­ues to res­onate, not just as a his­tor­i­cal archive, but as a reminder of the poten­tial for joy, col­lec­tiv­i­ty, and rebel­lion with­in youth cul­ture. In an age where nightlife is increas­ing­ly com­mer­cial­ized, reg­u­lat­ed, and sur­veilled, Walsh’s images are a tes­ta­ment to a fleet­ing moment of free­dom: when thou­sands of young peo­ple trans­formed aban­doned ware­hous­es and indus­tri­al ruins into cathe­drals of sound.

And that’s per­haps what makes RAVE ONE so endur­ing. It’s not just a record of what hap­pened, it’s a por­tal into how it felt to be there, right in the thick of it, when the bass dropped and the bound­aries of the night dis­ap­peared. For­tu­nate­ly, the future is look­ing bright; rave music is more wide­spread than ever and Walsh still has unscanned film, report­ed­ly num­ber­ing in the thou­sands, which he esti­mates could take at least a decade to process (if he has time between his cur­rent work as a video­g­ra­ph­er and pho­tog­ra­ph­er for pub­li­ca­tions such as Dis­co Pogo) so we may well see anoth­er few books to come out in the com­ing years.

UK 90s Acid House Manchester Rave One Photography Peter J Walsh
Ravers at Dave Haslam’s Free­dom Night at The Board­walk, c. 1989 © Peter J. Walsh

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