Derek Ridgers has seen it all. As a heralded chronicler of UK subcultures, the British photographer documented the punks and skinheads of the 1970s, the Blitz kids and New Romantics of the 80s, the underground ravers of the 90s, and every subcultural rumbling in between. Finding intimate moments in chaos, a lot of Ridgers’ portraits were taken in some of the city’s most defining venues, such as The Roxy and The Vortex, places which simmered with an undercurrent of new beginnings. As a West London native, Ridgers has seen the tectonic plates of the capital shift in every which way possible, but one thing that never changes is snogging. In Hello, I Love You, the photographer has curated a selection of images capturing couples entangled in make-out sessions, whether on the tube, on the floor of a club or in the middle of a dancefloor. The brazenness is almost disarming in this age of social media, when public perception can be created and controlled within an inch of its life. Published by IDEA Books, the monograph reads like a love letter to reckless youth – and the rebellion of late-night romance.

Ella Joyce: This body of work captures fleeting, intimate moments – what was it that drew you to capturing these glimpses of human connection?
Derek Ridgers: When I first started going out with a camera in the 1970s, public displays of affection seemed like much more of a thing. As to why I was drawn to capturing those moments, it probably has much more to do with my own personality. I’m far too buttoned up and reserved to ever engage in that sort of palaver myself, so I think it might be predominantly a vicarious thing.  

EJ: Did you ever build a relationship with the couples you photographed?
DR: To be honest, I had no relationship at all with them, apart from one. I was friendly with Jane Solanas – I’d worked with her briefly at NME in the 1980s – she’s seen kissing a girlfriend at Pride in Kennington in 1991. About half a dozen of the couples I’d met or photographed before, but none of the shots are set up.

“Sometimes couples would be rolling around on the floor snogging…”

EJ: The images span the 70s, 80s and 90s. How did you see subcultures and the people you photographed shift across these three decades?
DR: It’s not just the clubs, bars and festivals that have changed but everything else in London as well. The vast majority of the small, subterranean Soho club venues have gone now and you have to be rich to go to rock festivals like Glastonbury these days. A lot of the young people I photographed in the 70s and 80s were living in squats or were unwaged. Society is totally bifurcated these days into the haves and the have-nots.

EJ: What was the atmosphere like in these clubs, bars and festivals at the time you were taking photographs? And how crucial were these spaces in nurturing subcultural movements?
DR: A lot of the little clubs I used to shoot in were dark, dingy and often quite scruffy places. Sometimes couples would be rolling around on the floor snogging amongst all the fag ends, crumpled beer cans and other detritus. But the clubs themselves often seemed to me to be quite welcoming, non-judgemental places. You’d get the occasional fist fight in some of the punk clubs, but usually people were pretty friendly. The little clubs were crucial in nurturing those subcultures simply because things could gestate slowly away from the critical gaze of the general public. If one of those subcultures were to come along now, I think they’d be subject to so much criticism and online derision that they’d most probably never get properly started.

“You’d get the occasional fist fight in some of the punk clubs, but usually people were pretty friendly.”

EJ: How do you think today’s underground club scene compares? There’s an increasing number of London venues closing. Do you think there is a demise in clubbing, or will people always have that desire to go out?
DR: There’s undoubtedly a demise in clubbing because, as you say, there are far fewer clubs. But young people will always want to go out and have fun. They want to go out, get drunk (or otherwise inebriated), go dancing and, wherever possible, hook up. I can’t see that ever changing. Obviously, these days people can meet a partner online, but they’ll still want to go out and have fun.

EJ: How do you think the smartphone era and social media have affected photography both positively and negatively?
DR: According to Google, about five billion photographs are taken every day, and the vast majority of them are being captured on smartphones. That may seem like quite a lot but it’s less than two each, per person. The positive bit is that even if only one percent of those photographs are good ones, that’s half a million a day. The negative bit is that we’ll hardly ever get to see any of them. Back in the day, when I first picked up a camera, it seemed like there were only a handful of decent photographers around and some of them became rockstar famous, and many of their images were stuck on bedroom walls. A whole generation grew up on that photographic aesthetic. [David] Bailey and Richard Avedon even had feature films based on them. 

EJ: How have you seen London change since you first started documenting the city?
DR: London has changed a lot since the 1970s. Back then, you could still see bomb sites in parts of the East End, Covent Garden was deserted during the daytime, and Soho was a semi-red light district. These days, everything has become homogenised and the tentacles of gentrification have spread to almost every corner.  To my mind, the politicians and town planners have ripped the heart and soul out of the place. But London and Londoners are very resilient. The negative effects of Brexit won’t last forever, and I’m sure it’ll be back to being a great city again very soon.

Hello, I Love You is published by IDEA Books and available to purchase here.