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Molly Macindoe has spent the last 16 years of her life documenting the rave scene across the world – from Tottenham squats to Bedouin deserts, she’s partied and photographed them all. Her new book, Out Of Order: A Photographic Celebration of the Free Party Scene, is out now on Tangent Books and it’s one of the headiest and most atmospheric monuments to humanity’s most basic instinct: to party and dance like there’s no tomorrow.

How did you get into the rave scene?

A couple of friends at school had discovered it and figured I was alternative enough to be interested; I wasn’t into dance music when I went to my first rave. What I was looking for was a place and a community that I would feel comfortable in. Upon entering my first free party at the old bingo hall in Wood Green, North London in 1997, I found exactly that.

What made you pick up a camera and start documenting the parties?

In 1997 I started learning photography and black and white printing in my secondary school in north London. A few months later I discovered free parties and I was eager to try out these new photography skills (I considered the atmosphere to lend itself especially to B&W printing).

In addition, my art teacher, who knew I was going through a difficult time both at school and at home, encouraged me to take pictures of the part of my life that was making me happy. I can’t remember the exact point when I consciously realised I wanted to do a book but I was talking about it since the late 90s. I’d always admired big retrospective photography books like Nan Goldin’s I’ll Be Your Mirror and knew that I wanted one myself someday.

How do you explain what a teknival is to someone who’s never been to one before?

A teknival is to a rave what a music festival is to a club night. It’s bigger, lasts longer, has more soundsystems and crowds gathering from many countries or regions of a country.

So what’s the weirdest, most out-there party you’ve been to?

The Middle East Teknival in 2008 in the Jordanian desert (above). The event was originally supposed to be a collaboration between Israeli, Lebanese and European sound systems. Unfortunately, the Lebanese one had to pull out at the last minute because of the risk of repercussions from their government for associating with Israelis. It was the first of its kind and was only possible through negotiations with the Bedouin tribe that lived in that area. I had no idea what to expect and everyone I knew thought I was mad to be going out there alone. Only the boldest and bravest made it. The French and Israeli soundsystems had a crew, albeit small ones, but all other countries were all represented by only one or two people instead of the usual hundreds or thousands at European teknivals.

All these individuals made up a brand new crew and we had to spend time with each other, drinking coffee Arabic-style and sharing food instead of gathering in established cliques. The French soundsystem faced all odds in their journey from France and lost half their crew and equipment on the way. They almost didn’t make it through the last border into Jordan until a declaration was signed by the Bedouin Sheikh stating that he was personally responsible to ensure that the massive generator brought by the French would leave the country in seven days.

The scenery was incredible: a desert landscape, it felt like raving on the moon! The conditions were extreme, scorching heat during the day, freezing cold at night. When I played a set, the records were visibly warping in a fraction of a second from the heat. At one point police arrived in machine gun-mounted jeeps. The party lasted for five days, during which the generator broke down three times.  All familiar luxuries were stripped away, it was back to basics: it reminded us of the core values of this scene – determination to have freedom of self expression in the form of music and dancing.

How bad has the police crackdown on squatting and sound systems affected the British scene?

I can’t speak for any organisers, but it’s clear that there have been some changes in the last couple of years. Then again, I’ve seen that cycle of media moral panic followed by police clampdowns repeat itself several times. Out of Order covers ten years, but I’ve been documenting the scene for longer and of course the party culture has existed more like three decades so far.

The phrase ‘mutate to survive’ (also the name of a techno record label) springs to mind. The British scene has changed — the music, technology and equipment, the locations — breaking out and uniting with Europe and the rest of the world. Its persistence sets it apart from other youth subcultures, making it a definitive subculture and way of life for many, not just a youth fashion.

How does word get out about free parties now?

Everyone’s experience of discovering the free party scene is different. I was singled out by schoolmates because I had dyed hair and piercings. I have an American friend who read about London parties in a magazine and asked people at every club he went to until someone gave him a party-line number. That moment of discovery is a personal journey that I wouldn’t want to interfere with by spelling it out here!

There’s a weird nostalgia around this supposed golden age of rave, even from young people who weren’t there the first time around. Do you think that’s misplaced?

I don’t think so. Nostalgia is part and parcel of experiencing an evolving subculture… I started going to free parties in 1997. There were always more seasoned ravers reminiscing about ‘back in the day’ times – the birth of the UK rave scene peaking around the famous Castle Morton party in 1992.

What do you think of the current rave scene in America, which rides off the popularity of EDM?

I think the scene you’re referring to is the very commercial dance scene in the form of huge festivals like Electric Daisy. I haven’t been to an event like this, but have been to some similar ones in the UK – lots of fun to be had and great opportunities to see big-name DJs. However, in terms of photographic inspiration, despite the big budget light and video shows and colourful garish outfits, these kind of events lack the DIY community and spontaneity that have kept me interested in free parties all these years.

What was the last party you went to? Do you still go regularly?

In order to produce a book about free parties I had to stop going to them completely! It’s taken a long time to come out of that self-inflicted isolation, but recently I’ve been going to more parties and definitely still one teknival a year. Part of growing older means work and life commitments take priority over social events. On the occasions that I go, I may feel very physically tired after and wonder how I used to do that every weekend, but in my heart I feel rejuvenated, alive, happy, free, energetic and full of so much love for this unique scene and its peoples.

So, is the culture of free parties still alive and kicking?

In short, yes!

Out of Order: A Photographic Celebration of the Free Party Scene is published on Tangent Books and is available to buy here. www.mollymacindoe.com

Words: Zing Tsjeng (Follow Zing on Twitter @misszing)

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In the 16th and 17th centuries, Dutch artists painted piles of rotting fruit, faded flowers and skulls in the quest to depict the ultimate futility of earthly life (optimistic guys, these Dutch painters). Four centuries on, Tara Sellios has transferred the traditional vanitas painting onto film, photographing pig heads, goblets of blood-red wine and all varieties of anything dead or in the process of dying.

Wonderland spoke to the Boston-born photographer about life, death, the impermanence of meaning, and whether she’s now compelled to rearrange plates of food when she eats out.

Why the obsession to photograph meat, wine, blood? Is there a more personal connection or meaning?

There are several different reasons, and they are all layered and relate to each other in some way. My work has to do with themes of death, impermanence of life and pleasure, and carnality. Flesh and blood have such a visceral quality to them when used in the still life, which ties into all of these themes. I’m interested in the animalistic nature of people, and how we, at the end of the day, act on impulse and instinct, despite culture, emotion, and sophistication.

Any unconventional artistic influences, or sources of inspiration growing up?

I can’t think of anything that I would classify as unconventional. I do think a lot of art making is derivative of an artist’s entire past in some way, shape or form. I have always had a love for art history and an attraction to old paintings. The work of the old masters is so elegant and infinitely majestic, while at the same time possessing a haunting and mysterious quality. It amazes me how lasting some of this work is, and how it is still revered today after so many centuries. One can only dream of making something that is still so affecting after being around for so long.

What distinguishes your work from a revamped vanitas piece and makes it modern and relevant today?

One of the aspects is the use of the large scale, color photograph to execute the images. Instead of being painted, these scenarios are documented on film, meaning that obsessive precision is necessary before the film is exposed, unlike with paint, where you have the ability and more freedom to play around with what is and isn’t in the image. There is a different physicality to my work in the fact that I actually must go to the markets and seek out these items, and then really arrange them, touch them and smell them.

Is your approach at all didactic in trying to teach us a moral lesson?

I wouldn’t say that I am doing this to teach anyone anything. Everything the work is about, I feel, is something that people are already aware of to some extent. If anything, I would say the photographs act as a reminder. Honestly, I just want to create something affecting out of a disheartening truth.

There seems to be a lot of Christian symbolism in your work. Are you at all spiritual in any way?

I was raised in a very Christian environment, and I attended church many times a week for most of my life. There was no other option than to do what I was told when I was younger, but I ended up not following that path. This certainly has influenced my work, and is most likely why the old altarpiece paintings resonate with me so much. There is a lot of guilt involved with Christianity, and presently I am interested in the idea of self-restraint from pleasure or self-indulgence, things that aren’t necessarily wrong, but by religious standards are looked at as sins, and the guilt that goes along with that.

What are you working on right now?

I am in the process of making a new photographic body of work called ‘Luxuria’. They are rich in color and lush with a lot of wine, fruit and flowers. Wine is the central driving subject. Hieronymus Bosch has always been an influence, but recently I have been really looking at his “Garden of Earthly Delights” triptych. I want the photographs to sort of appear as the paradise garden gone wrong, almost as if the Hell panel and paradise panel collided.

Has your own work changed your daily attitude towards seafood and red meat? Is it hard not to rearrange the dishes and portions on the table when you eat out at restaurants?

No, not really. The items that I use are my raw materials, as clay to a sculptor or paint to a painter. Eating is a totally separate act from making these tableaus for the camera. For some reason I do like raw food: oysters, carpaccio, sushi, things like that, but that’s just personal preference. Perhaps this ties into my work a little bit with the idea of self-indulgence and pleasure, but these are concepts, not props.

Words: Christine Jun (Follow Christine on Twitter @christinecocoj)

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Right now, Riitta Ikonen and Karoline Hjorth are one of our favourite duos working in medium format photography. Taking their beat-up Mamiya camera to out-of-the-way locations (swamps, marshes – anything goes), they stage elaborate pictures of senior citizens decked out in seawood, driftwood and all manner of scavenged flotsam.

The resulting series, Eyes As Big As Plates, is a wry, tender attempt to transform people into gentle mythical figures from local folklore, and it makes for alternatively hilarious and touching moments. We spoke to them after their Recess in Red Hook exhibition in Brooklyn, New York.

You’ve said that the project is a play on Norwegian folklore – what’s so distinctive about Norwegian folk tales?

KR: The project started in Norway, looking at Norwegian folktales, their origins and personifications of nature. As we went round Sandnes interviewing people in their phenomenal native landscape, we did hear that the locals in our area were “very practical and didn’t have time to turn rocks and wonder what’s under”… Comments like these reshaped our quest slightly more towards imagination. Finland and the Finns we found to be even more rationalistic in their relationship with their all-surrounding lakes and woods.

How did you two meet?

R: I was searching around internet for a collaborator for a residency in Norway and typed in: ‘Norway + older people + photographer’. Karoline’s name came up at the top of the search results (she had just written a book about the grandmothers of Norway ). I liked what I saw, emailed her and asked if she would like to work with me in Sandnes. She said yes, and we met first time at the door step of the 20 square foot flat we were to live for the next month and a half. It was lucky we got along as well as we do.

Your subjects all wear oversized, elaborate headpieces – how do those get made?

KR: First comes the plan for the image, the location and the general idea for the character. Then location scouting, gathering materials, arranging and attaching.

How do you find your subjects?

KR: From sitting opposite to them at dumpling houses, indoor gardening societies, senior centers, previous projects, neighbours, relatives, friends…

You travel to bogs, swamps and remote woods for your photos. Why not just set up in a cosy studio?

KR: We seek these locations out on purpose. Sometimes a bog or an arboretum can be challenging but that is what makes it all interesting.

We find these pictures quite surreal but strangely touching – is that something you deliberately set out to do?

KR: Humans are both those things. Humans loaded with nature, and in nature is at least triple the blast. I guess we must have known the formidable elements we were experimenting with, but it all turned out way more charged than we could have imagined.

What was your favourite folk tale as a child?

Folktales get associated with children a lot. But telling tales surely isn’t reserved for children only. Just like modeling isn’t for when you are 17. We once got asked what we thought about working with two clichés; Nature and Old people. The question threw us completely. Old people aren’t any more cliched than pink plastic bits, middle-aged people or fluorescent lights.

Some people online have described the photos as being very funny – did you have a sense of humour in the work?

KR: Absolutely. The making of the work is fun and we are glad it shows.

For more of the series, head to the duo’s official site. http://eyesasbigasplates.wordpress.com/

Words: Zing Tsjeng (Follow Zing on Twitter @misszing)

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In real life, Julian Vassallo describes himself as a shy, calm guy with a fondness for heavy metal music. But in his startling and gothic visual world, the 22-year-old photographer and architecture student transforms himself into a eerie, unreal subject of gloom. The Malta resident spoke to us from Italy, where he is currently enrolled in a special Erasmus programme at the University of Rome.

What got you interested in photography?

When I was younger I wasn’t into art at all. In fact, I was a very mathematical kind of person and intrigued by physics and biology. As I got older, my fascination with the beta-world began to diminish and I signed myself up for a study in architecture. I didn’t know zip about architecture though and hadn’t even heard of Leonardo da Vinci… To make matters worse, I was terrible at drawing and miserably failed the first year. That said, I persisted and when we had to do a photography project, I really go into that. Again, I sucked at first. I didn’t have a clue how a camera worked, but my desire to improve my skills was untameable.

You caught our eye with your project, ‘The 52 Weeks Challenge‘. Tell us how you got started on that.

Well, in all honesty, a friend of mine who is also a photographer told me that a good way to start your photography career is by regularly posting pictures on Flickr. So I did, by mostly submitting self-portraits on a weekly basis, hence the name ’52 Weeks Challenge’.

Is there a concept behind these self-portraits?

Not necessarily, I’m just fascinated by nature and by the human body. When I began, I hardly had any contacts in the art world to reflect and exchange ideas with, so I basically just figured I might as well shoot myself. It’s less hassle…

Without doubt, that would have to be Kris Micallef. He’s an extremely talented and established fashion photographer here in Malta. We’ve become friends recently and are planning to do a project together.

Do you happen to have any unlikely inspirations besides the physical body and our earthly environs?

When I was younger I was really into fantasy movies such as Lord of the Rings. I loved to get lost in another world. Growing up in Malta, I’ve never been surrounded by lakes, forests and the outdoorsy life. Malta is quite a dense country, so maybe this submersing myself in flora is my way of compensating.

What’s your ultimate ambition in life?

These days I’m quite confused really, because I don’t know whether I want to fully immerse myself in the architectural world or become a full time photographer. I hope I can be both.

How about combining the two?

In fact, I have loads of architectural models that I could easily blend in with my photography. But my ultimate desire would be to mix architecture, photography and fashion.

What would you say makes you most happy in life?

Fame or becoming filthy rich leaves me cold. As cheesy as it may sound, seeing my family and friends happy, makes me happy.

Happiness euphoria sounds legit. What do you hope the future has in stake for you?

I love fashion and would really like to do editorials with designers, stylists and the whole enchilada. For now, I’m mainly focussing on perfecting the art of self-portraits and finding ways to combine this with my love for architecture.

Words: Claire van den Berg

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