Youth has a brilliant habit of repeating itself. Not in the details, which shift with every generation, but in its gestures and rebellions. The Ballad of Eternal Youth, a new photographic project by Wanda Martin and her father, Gábor Martin, explores those impulses across decades, borders and political systems. Gábor photographed young people coming of age in socialist Hungary during the 1960s and 70s, when the country existed behind the Iron Curtain, while Wanda’s lens turns to contemporary London, capturing a generation navigating a very different world but often chasing the same highs.

Both shot in black-and-white 35mm film, the images work in tune with one another. Beyond subtle hints of their respective era – such as the ominous head of Lenin peeking from behind a sound booth – the styles and sensibilities of the characters in the images become interchangeable, focusing attention not to what has ended, but to what endures. Through this dialogue, youth becomes a shared dialogue – a restless rhythm of desire and defiance.

Having recently exhibited at Photo London, here, Wanda and Gábor give us insight into the stories and people behind the photographs. 

Gábor Martin: Young People Smoking at the “Melós” Working Men’s Club, Békéscsaba, 1979
“I grew up behind the Iron Curtain in Békéscsaba, a small town in southeast Hungary. I began my photographic career in my early twenties in the 70s as a photojournalist covering domestic politics, but outside of work I found myself drawn to very different subjects: friends, lovers and nights out. Like many photographers, I instinctively documented the world around me and the experiences that felt important at that age. Most of these photographs remained unseen for decades and have only resurfaced in recent years as I began rediscovering my archive. We knew very little about what life in the West was actually like, and music, along with the style that came with it, became a powerful vehicle for imagination, freedom and escape. Looking back at these photographs now, I realise they capture much more than youthful nights out. They document a generation of young people who stood apart from the system. With their long hair, Levi’s jeans and love of Western music, many were considered rebels or troublemakers. They were often stopped or harassed by the police simply because of how they looked, dressed, or expressed themselves. During the socialist era, these images would never have been published.”

“We knew very little about what life in the West was actually like, and music, along with the style that came with it, became a powerful vehicle for imagination, freedom and escape.”

Wanda Martin: Shacklewell Arms, London, 2015

“I moved to London from Hungary in my early twenties to study photography at the London College of Fashion. I barely knew anyone when I arrived and, like many people finding their feet in a new city, I spent a lot of time going out, looking for connection, friendship and a sense of belonging. I was drawn to the city’s music and subcultural scenes, particularly those inspired by the rock, garage and psychedelic sounds of the 1960s and 1970s. Before long, I found myself spending countless nights in East London venues such as the Shacklewell Arms and the Moth Club.

At university, we had access to a darkroom, so I began shooting almost exclusively on film. Photography became a way of documenting not only the places I was discovering, but also the people I was meeting and the community I was gradually becoming part of.

I took this photograph at the Shacklewell Arms. As is often the case with documentary photography, I didn’t actually know the people in the frame. Years later, they somehow came across the image on my Instagram and recognised themselves. We connected online, and in a lovely twist of fate, they recently visited my booth at Photo London, where we finally met in person for the first time.

It was only later, when my father began rescanning his archive of negatives from the 1970s, that we noticed striking similarities between his photographs of youth culture in socialist Hungary and my own images of East London nightlife from 2015–2018. Despite being separated by decades, geography and political systems, the photographs shared a common spirit. That discovery eventually led me to develop a joint project with my father, bringing our two archives together in a series that explores the universal experience of youth.”

Gábor Martin: DJ Géza Andrékó at “Melós” Working Men’s Club, 1979

“In this photograph I captured my friend Géza Andrékó, who was a regular DJ at the local Working Men’s Club, known simply as the Melós. It was one of the few places where young people could gather, dance and listen to the latest music from the West.

At the time, records from Britain or the United States were incredibly difficult to obtain. The political regime viewed Western culture with suspicion, fearing it could influence or corrupt young people. We relied on friends and relatives travelling to Yugoslavia, where socialism was less restrictive, to bring back records, magazines and the occasional pair of Levi’s or Lee jeans. We were obsessed with those jeans. In my secondary school, which had more than 400 students, only three people owned a genuine pair of American jeans, usually thanks to relatives living abroad. They became symbols of a world we could only imagine from afar.

Many of the songs played at the Melós came to us through Radio Free Europe and its legendary Teenager Party programme. It wasn’t just the music that fascinated us – the show was a glimpse of another way of life. Despite official disapproval, we listened secretly under our blankets at night, trying to tune into the crackling shortwave signal and record our favourite songs onto cassette tapes.

Rediscovering this photograph decades later, I was struck by a detail I had barely noticed at the time: Lenin’s portrait peeking out behind Géza as he sits at the turntables. Back then it was completely normal. Portraits of Lenin and Stalin, watched over classrooms, workplaces and public spaces throughout our daily lives. Looking at the image now, it feels strangely symbolic. There is the ever-present gaze of the system in the background, yet at the centre of the image is the DJ providing the soundtrack to a generation searching for moments of freedom, escape and connection within the confines of everyday life.”

Wanda Martin: Moshpit at The Garden gig, London, 2017
“Even as my fashion photography career was beginning to take off, I never lost my love for live music. Throughout my twenties, I spent countless evenings at gigs, photographing bands both on and off stage. Music and youth culture had always been a huge influence on my work, so documenting these scenes felt like a natural extension of my photography. In 2018, I had the opportunity to photograph Wyatt and Fletcher Shears of The Garden for a portrait shoot in London and later that same day, I went to see them perform. While I photographed the band on stage, I found myself equally drawn to the energy of the audience.

Back then I was fairly reckless. I was always in the middle of the mosh pit with my camera, getting pushed around with everyone else, not worrying about beer being spilt on my equipment or whether my lens might get smashed. I wasn’t interested in observing from a distance – I wanted to experience the music from the inside.”

Wanda Martin: Nat & Jack, London, 2015
“While studying at university, I worked on a personal project called Lovers, photographing couples of all genders and sexualities in their own spaces, often in the intimacy of their bedrooms. I was interested in documenting relationships as they really were. Nathalia and Jack were part of the same East London scene that I was immersed in at the time. They were a couple, musicians, and together they fronted a band called Leave the Planet. I photographed them both individually and as a band, and Nathalia appeared in front of my camera many times over the years. In many ways, she became one of my muses. Since then, Nathalia Bruno has gone on to front bands including Drift and Index for Working Musik.

I’ve always loved this photograph, but only recently have I understood exactly why. Beyond its rock’n’roll spirit, it contains something that has consistently drawn me to image-making: a painterly quality. Nathalia’s flowing hair and serene expression inevitably bring to mind Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.”

Gábor Martin: Summer in Szanazug, 1977
“I took this photograph in Szanazug, a picturesque area on the outskirts of my hometown, Békéscsaba, where two rivers meet. Surrounded by woodland and dotted with small weekend houses, it has long been a favourite escape for locals during the summer months. The landscape has a distinctly romantic atmosphere, and perhaps because of that, it has always attracted young couples.

I had gone there with a group of friends, but as often happened, I eventually wandered off on my own with my camera. I enjoyed observing people and looking for small moments that might otherwise go unnoticed. On this particular day, I was walking with a telephoto lens, watching people enjoy the summer heat, when I noticed this young couple kissing passionately. I photographed them from a distance, allowing the moment to remain completely natural and undisturbed.

Public displays of affection were far less common than they are today. Society was generally more conservative, and people tended to be much more reserved in expressing intimacy in public.”

Wanda Martin: “All we ever wanted was everything”, 2023
“I took this photograph a few years ago while photographing the London punk band Luxury Apartments. Alongside the band portraits, I was also making individual portraits of each musician, trying to capture something of their personality away from the collective identity of the group.

While photographing Cashino, the bass player, I noticed the tattoos covering his chest and arms and asked if he would mind removing his shirt for a few frames. The tattoos immediately caught my attention, particularly the phrase “All We Ever Wanted Was Everything” across his chest – a reference to the Bauhaus song. That line stayed with me long after the shoot. In fact, it sort of became the subtitle of The Ballad of Eternal Youth in my head as it captures something fundamental about youth.

I am often asked what today’s youth are rebelling against. In my father’s case, the answer seems obvious. But what about my generation? We grew up with far greater freedoms and opportunities. What is there left to rebel against? The more I thought about it, the more I realised that youth itself never really changes. Every generation finds something to push against. Part of it is simply the natural desire to define yourself in opposition to the generation that came before you. For many of us, rebellion was less about politics and more about rejecting a conventional path: settling down early, getting married young, having children, or following a prescribed idea of success.

At the same time, I came to understand that unlimited freedom brings its own anxieties. We were raised to believe that we could become anyone we wanted to be, live anywhere in the world, pursue any career, and fall in love with anyone. The possibilities felt endless. Yet endless possibilities can be just as overwhelming as limitations. Faced with so many choices, we often struggled to choose at all. Perhaps that is why the phrase ‘All We Ever Wanted Was Everything‘ resonated with me so deeply.”

“Every generation finds something to push against.”

Gábor Martin: Smoking boy, 1972
“Gábor Martin: I took this photograph while testing a new telephoto lens. I noticed a young boy fishing by the water and made a few frames from a distance. He couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old. I never thought much of the picture.

In fact, when Wanda first suggested including it in The Ballad of Eternal Youth, I wasn’t convinced. My understanding of photography was shaped by a different generation and a different education. When I studied photojournalism, we were taught that a strong photograph should either show something ordinary in an extraordinary way, or something extraordinary in an ordinary way. To me, this image seemed too simple. It was just a portrait of a boy.

Only later did I realise that photographs can acquire new meanings over time. Looking through my archive fifty years later and hearing all the feedback after our exhibition in Budapest, I began to understand that many of these images carry an additional layer that simply didn’t exist when I took them. What once felt ordinary can become interesting through the passage of time. The world changes, and suddenly a photograph becomes a document of something that no longer exists.”

Wanda: “This is actually one of my favourite photographs in the entire project. What I love about it is that it sits exactly on the threshold between childhood and adulthood. The boy looks no older than twelve or thirteen, yet there is already a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. For me, that cigarette becomes a powerful symbol. It marks the beginning of adolescence, of testing boundaries, of wanting to appear older than you are. It is the first hint of rebellion, the first step away from childhood.

I think that is why the image resonates so strongly within The Ballad of Eternal Youth. It captures a universal moment that exists in every generation: that uncertain space between innocence and experience, when a child begins to invent the person they want to become.”

Wanda Martin: Jacob, Foxes Magazine, London, 2017
“I took this photograph backstage at the Margate Wonderland Festival in 2017 while photographing the short-lived band Dead Pretties. I was drawn to the band because of their raw sound and uncompromising punk spirit, and what I quickly discovered was that the energy they projected on stage was exactly the same off it.

During the shoot, frontman Jacob Slater – now best known as the singer of Wunderhorse – began clowning around in front of the camera, eventually taping a beer can to his face. It was a completely spontaneous moment, equal parts absurd, funny and rebellious, and perfectly in keeping with the band’s attitude at the time.

When I first made the photograph, I simply saw it as a memorable backstage portrait. It was only years later, while putting together The Ballad of Eternal Youth, that I realised how naturally it belonged within the project. For me, it has become a perfect embodiment of youthful rebellion — to reject expectations, embrace chaos, and not take yourself too seriously.”

Follow Wanda Martin on Instagram.