Abstract

Queer Premises is about the post-1980 emergence of the queer scene in London as an emotionally charged social movement among stigmatized sexuality and gender communities. The title itself is a play on words—premises refers to both the premises, that is, assumptions underlying queer life, while also pointing to how the geographical locales are designed socially, economically, and architecturally. The book begins as a story about coming out in newly public places—the clubs, venues, bars, community centers, and nighttime venues. Campkin starts the book very clearly with a question which is seemingly bland, but in fact quite provocative: “How have London's queer populations embedded themselves into urban space governing and planning?” Another way to put it, is to ask how have populations deeply rooted in issues of stigma, ideals of intimacy, and sexuality fared in a conservative world of urban planning, business, and politics?
But Queer Premises is not only a book about stigma, gender, and sexuality; Campkin also discusses the most rational of subjects, such as business and economics, building codes, zoning, business hours, and architecture. How did planning considerations managed by town councils, and professional planners, fit in with the cultural change precipitated by a queer community seeking to publicly establish itself as a sub-culture? How does a political establishment, often uneasy with the nature of queerness, but greedy enough to encourage the establishment of a lucrative economic sector, manage the laws, zoning decisions, and governance of a culture that by its very nature is “outside the box?”
Campkin's story begins in the 1980s as communities moved out of the clandestine closeted zones of the private clubs, and into identifiable public spaces in London. Physically, they clustered around the Soho and Islington/King's Cross neighborhoods, and as importantly, temporally colonized the night. They created the clubs, music, community, and culture. The queer culture that emerged in the 1980s and 1990s reflected musicians, flamboyant performance artists, and club culture shaped by shifting gay, lesbian, and queer communities seeking unstigmatized companionship, intimacy, community, and love. Some of the best writing is in Chapter 3 (p. 100), where the uses of the different venues are described, for the aesthetics they sought to generate. For example, describing one bar: The Bell points to a shift in the standards of aesthetics that were happening throughout this period, where refurbishment aesthetics were bound into the politics of visibility. The Fallen Angel was a pioneer. It influenced the ‘swish’, ‘dean’ aesthetics of later bars ….
A “Night Commission” which hired a “night czar” was also appointed to govern the night, with the approval of the London City Council to reflect a culture operating 24 hours, around the clock. Permitting, licensing, and transportation regulation were central to the issues raised, as were conflicts with outsiders, and between queer identity groups. New norms, rules, and regulations regarding building design, zoning, club exclusivity, and business hours emerged. The management of order was also critical, involving at times the city police force, but at others dealt with by the night czar, and other more informal institutions. Among these were attempts by clubs to include and exclude revelers, in a culture which sought inclusivity as an explicit goal, but at times practiced exclusivity. Thus the book is not only about how queer culture challenges the status quo, it is also about the hyper-rational world of blueprints, zoning, permits, design, and legal process.
Conservative politicians like Mayor Boris Johnson (who combed his hair and donned a pink cowboy hat at a 2008 Pride event) make their appearances in the book. Such politicians sought support from an emerging LGBTQ+ power structure, while still maintaining support from the business establishment. This happened against the backdrop or the queer culture emerging into London's nighttime bar scene, economic conditions changed, rents fluctuated, music tastes reverberated, and sexual norms shifted. Bringing the historic-ethnographic treatment up to date, the final chapter deals with COVID epidemic. London's community had established itself by 2020, but the COVID epidemic was still a new challenge to the social networks and culture established over the previous 40 years. The point of COVID regulations was of course to discouraged proximity, policies which put stresses on London's queer nightlife where the very point is encouraging proximity. Such paradox is a theme which permeates Campkin's book.
Queer Premises is thus an ethnography of not only club life and the intimacy sought there, but also the adjustments municipal government made to queer culture in London after 1980. Performance styles, music genres, and most importantly new community emerged. The interaction between the new identity cultures, and the conservative government is what makes Campkin's book significant to a broader audience. After all, the emergence of new cultures from marginalized worlds is not limited to the nightclubs of the greater Soho area of London post-1980.
Sexual minorities beyond London are creating new urban spaces, challenging (hetero)normativity and other constraints generated by economic and government structures. In their own way, they seek to create safe places to comfortably express older queer cultural habits, and construct new ones. Cities and their planning commissions around the world will deal with this for a long time, and in many permutations. This is why Queer Premises is a good book for both activists and policymakers to start thinking about such issues, and each other. Activists will read about the political and economic pressures that pre-existing power structures bring. Policymakers will perhaps learn that cultural change is normal and can also play an important role in creating new urban centers, as well as colonizing the night-time.
