Growing up as a teenager in London during the 1990s, Jennie Baptiste’s youth was soundtracked by the rise of hip-hop and dancehall in the capital’s clubs, witnessing one of the most defining eras of music in real time. Naturally, Baptiste began capturing those around her on her point-and-shoot camera from as early as she can remember. At the time, those faces were unknown DJs in sweaty warehouses or rappers performing to intimate crowds, but many of those same names would soon define the decade, shaping the culture that shaped her.

In celebration of Baptiste’s pioneering work, the photographer’s first retrospective is currently on display at Somerset House. Titled Rhythm & Roots, it brings together iconic portraits of Nas, Ms Dynamite and The Notorious B.I.G., as well as never-before-seen works, such as Revolutions @ 33 ⅓ rpm, highlighting eleven British DJs. Heavily inspired by the record store culture of her youth, the exhibition pays homage to her formative days at Deal Real in Soho, a space where she met many of the DJs who’ve now contributed mixes featured in Rhythm & Roots, which visitors can listen to on headphones in the gallery.

In the conversation below, Baptiste reflects on her relationship with those she photographed, London’s shifting landscape, and the vibrancy of those who pioneered 90s hip-hop.

Ella Joyce: Can you tell us about the first time you picked up a camera?
Jennie Baptiste: My mum bought me my first camera when I was ten years old. It was a 110 camera and I would use it to photograph my friends and family, when I went on school trips, that sort of thing.

EJ: Rhythm & Roots is the first institutional survey of your work. How did the project come to be, and where did the curation process begin?
JB: In 2023, my portrait of Pinky was featured in The Missing Thread exhibition at Somerset House. Around this time, I spoke with Cliff Lauson, Director of Exhibitions at Somerset House, about my practice and my photography. I was introduced to Kinnari Saraiya, who is the curator of Jennie Baptiste: Rhythm & Roots, and it was at this point that we began a real deep dive into my archive. For the curation process, Kinnari and I started by looking at different themes within my photography and discussing how these interacted with each other – and how they would fit within the Terrace Rooms at Somerset House. It was a really interesting and thought-provoking process.

EJ: What attracted you to the dancehall and hip-hop scene in the 90s?
JB: Both scenes were really vibrant and in-your-face, and I loved the energy of them both. It was an exciting time. Additionally, the hip-hop and dancehall photographs I was seeing in the public domain at that time, I felt that I could contribute something different – a different twist to what had been portrayed in the mainstream.

EJ: At the time, did it feel like you were in the midst of something important? How does it feel to look back on that decade with hindsight?
JB: I was in my twenties at the time, and photography and music were things I really wanted to explore. It was an exciting period – hip-hop was thriving globally, moving into the commercial space, and there were so many opportunities. It was just a really vibrant time. You had the Britpop scene happening alongside it, with culture, fashion, and art all buzzing. It was also pre-Internet, which made things feel even more immediate. I’ve always loved magazines, and I bought tons of them. There was also the thrill, as a photographer, of waiting to see your images in print – turning the pages, hunting for them. The energy of it all was incredible.

EJ: What was your relationship like with the people you photographed? There are some incredible portraits in your collection.
JB: The relationship with the people I’ve photographed has always been great. That is a big part of the process for me, that the sitter goes away feeling good about the engagement they’ve had with me. For example, in this exhibition I’ve been able to remix, revive, and bring back my photo series Revolutions @ 33 1/3 rpm over twenty years later. All the DJs were on board – nine of them were at the private view and had created mixes for the exhibition listening stations. By creating these relationships via your soft skills, you can really get a lot more out of the sitter, because they then trust you within the process, which is important creatively.

EJ: The inclusion of listening stations in the exhibit highlights the significance of record store culture – could you tell us about your connection to this and the music attached to them?
JB: Record store culture was a big part of my childhood initially, from way back when I was a youngster. There was a record store on every high street, and my pocket money went on 12-inch records and magazines, basically. Coming from a family with three older sisters, I was the youngest, and I experienced turntables from a very early age; we had one in our bedroom where my sisters would play music, and I would sit on the carpet looking at the album sleeves, reading the credits, looking at the pictures, or singing along to the songs. By the time I was a teenager, I was going to record stores. I would go to HMV on Bond Street to get my records signed, but then I’d also ask if I could take a photograph of the artist on my 35mm compact camera. From a very early age, before I even realised or thought about shooting music artists professionally, my interests in music and photography were fused.

EJ: As someone who began documenting the places and faces of London in the 90s, how have you seen the city’s landscape change?
JB: One thing that has changed a lot is that digital cameras are everywhere – everyone has a camera on their phone! In terms of London, there are fewer clubs around now. In the 90s, this was huge, and there was a great vibe and energy where you were able to meet lots of like-minded people in clubs and record stores. For this generation, these are two outlets that they don’t necessarily have access to, and the clubs that are around are few and far between. It is similar to live music. I feel that so much is online now, and you can’t feel the energy of a performance through the screen. You need to be in that moment, you need to be in that space.

Jennie Baptiste: Rhythm & Roots runs at Somerset House until January 4th 2026, more info here.