One afternoon while setting up for the V&A East Museum’s new DJ residency, upperground, I ran into a friend from university entering the Why We Make Galleries. She’d come to visit the museum and see the exhibition and hadn’t planned on staying, but I convinced her to come back for that week’s upperground set in the evening, allowing us to catch up while discovering experimental, new music. Our serendipitous meeting on that day showed me that young people from all over the city are already eager to engage with V&A East, and that evenings like this can pull them into an exciting, less formal relationship with the museum, beyond the exhibitions themselves.
The upperground series was launched this August in dialogue with The Music is Black: A British Story exhibition. Each Thursday, a different DJ, selector, or music practitioner is invited to activate the museum’s upper ground space and build a set that reflects their own musical language. The residency tests what happens when a museum invites club culture and live performance into normally static gallery spaces, and what becomes possible, or complicated, once those two functions collide.
The space itself contributes to the ease of this union. Illuminated by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, the upper ground floor feels less like a traditional gallery space, especially once filled with music and dancing crowds. By inviting the public into this space, they are encouraged to not only connect with the music, as representations of black diasporic creative production, but also with one another.
Each artist is given creative control over how they activate the space, including lighting, staging, or even similar smaller activations they want to build around their set. When the Black, queer DJ collective Polyjammeorus took over the space on the 13th of August, they organised a zine-making workshop discussing what Black British music meant to the public. In this way, alongside a fun, diverse set that moved through Afro tech, dancehall, amapiano, garage, house, and more, upperground artists promoted the creative expression of the attendees themselves and an intellectual engagement with black music.
upperground prompts the question of how museums can be more open and inviting to young people, focusing especially on welcoming the black, queer, youth in the area. By showcasing black talent from around London within the music scene and proposing a free, non-ticketed event to see them perform, an array of different demographics were brought together unified under a love for fun music, dancing, and engaging with like-minded peers.
Interning at the V&A East this summer, and helping coordinate upperground, has taught me a lot about what representation in a museum actually looks like in practice, and how to champion untold and underacknowledged stories in a way that is both interesting and applicable cross-generationally. As a young Black woman from the area myself, I understand the importance of artistic representation, and I am grateful for the opportunity to be a facilitator of that representation for others. This experience has left me more curious about what the local cultural landscape could look like if more institutions worked this way.
As a pilot series, the artists upperground has hosted move through a diverse array of musical histories, diasporas, and scenes, testing to what extent the public are open to engaging with museums in this way, and whether one museum space can hold that range and maintain the individuality of each unique sound and artist. This makes me wonder what a museum can decode about itself and who it is for, when outsiders are welcomed in to lead public programmes. Ultimately, alongside The Music is Black exhibition, which tells the story of the multitudes of black contributions to the global music scene, upperground sets a stage for the continuation of those many different stories into their own futures.
Facts Only
* An individual met a friend from university while setting up for the V&A East Museum’s new DJ residency.
* The upperground series was launched in August in dialogue with The Music is Black: A British Story exhibition.
* Each Thursday, a different DJ, selector, or music practitioner activates the museum's upper ground space.
* Artists build sets reflecting their musical language within the gallery spaces.
* The upper ground floor is illuminated by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park.
* One artist collective, Polyjammeorus, organized a zine-making workshop on August 13th.
* Artists control elements like lighting and staging for their activations.
* Upperground artists performed music spanning Afro tech, dancehall, amapiano, garage, and house.
* The series functions as a pilot testing public engagement with museums through live performance.
Executive Summary
Full Take
The narrative positions the museum space not merely as a container for static exhibitions but as an active site capable of facilitating dynamic cultural collisions. The core tension lies in integrating ephemeral, communal club culture—defined by musical fluidity and immediate social engagement—with the institutional framework of the gallery. This process suggests that the function of a cultural institution can shift from passive repository to active generator of community experience when it intentionally invites counter-cultural practices into its walls. The focus on Black, queer youth engaging with these spaces implies a critique of traditional institutional gatekeeping and a desire for representation rooted in lived, contemporary experience. The inquiry shifts toward how museums can decode their own identity—what they are for, and who they serve—when allowing external, diverse voices to lead programming. The success of the series hinges on whether the collision of these functions results in meaningful inclusion rather than mere spectacle or compartmentalization of different cultural interests.
What assumptions about the museum's role in representing history versus facilitating contemporary experience are being challenged by this integration? How does the act of inviting club culture into a static space redefine notions of "gallery" and "public space"? If the goal is to foster continuation of diverse musical histories, what structural mechanisms must be in place for these ephemeral events to translate into enduring institutional shifts concerning representation across generations?
