Ephemeral and opportunistic, pop-ups at first seem to draw on the same lineage as free parties or squat raves, repurposing unwanted spaces to create something daring, disruptive and unburdened by red tape. The reality is often a bit different: as outlined in
this excellent article by Dan Hancox, pop-ups are just as likely to be a vector for larger corporations to make use of cheap rents and some vaguely rebellious branding.
Even when that’s not the case, many pop-ups are still a poor replacement for spaces which more naturally emerge from or respond to a specific community’s needs. Their finite lifespan demands a quick and direct route to profitability, which perhaps explains why so many of them veer towards universal feel-good fodder: an ocean of barbeques, cupcakes, and cocktails,
pop culture references, and
cheerfully bland infantilisation of a ball pit for ‘adults’.
Near where I live in South London, a disused space originally earmarked for the “Grow Brixton" project and intended to focus on community groups and environmental sustainability,
was launched earlier this year having been rebranded as Pop: Brixton, now run in conjunction with property developers The Collective and hosting product launches for Adidas.
Pop have since been granted permission to
redevelop a multi-storey car park in Peckham, previously home to Frank’s Bar and the Bold Tendencies arts organisation. Bold Tendencies’ own proposal for the site, built around 800 affordable artists’ studios and Peckham’s long-term creative sustainability, was rejected in favour of Pop’s focus on “pop-up retail and a multi-use events space". Pop-ups become, in Hancox’s words, “a gloss of fake ‘community’ painted over the cracks rippling through Britain's social structures".
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