Skating history: the story of the Undercroft Skate Space
The beating heart of London’s skate culture for five decades was never built with boards in mind
If you’ve ever taken a walk along London’s South Bank, you’ll be familiar with the drone and whir of plastic wheels on concrete that greets your ears as you make it to our Queen Elizabeth Hall.
A location so synonymous with skateboarding that it was even recreated in the video game Tony Hawk Pro Skating 4, it’s hard to believe this is not a purpose-built skate park, and that boards haven’t always ripped around its concrete underbelly. But it really is just a happy architectural accident, one that indirectly became a cultural beacon for generations of skaters.
When the complex of buildings then known as ‘The Festival Wing’ were first drawn up by the innovative architects of London County Council in the early 1960s few people in the UK would’ve even seen a skateboard, let alone ridden one. Though these architects probably weren’t up on the newfangled craze of ‘sidewalk surfing’ emerging out of California, they were however big fans of Archigram – an architectural movement inspired by a new way of urban life.
The architects carried this spirit of Archigram into their designs for what is now our Queen Elizabeth Hall and Hayward Gallery. They introduced high-level walkways and open public spaces, many of which had no fixed purposes, but for which a use and a reason would emerge over time. And in the case of the Undercroft, with its mix of concrete ledges, slopes, pillars and stairs, that ideal use would emerge in the following decade when it was discovered by skateboarders, who loved it so much they never left.
The Undercroft became a second home for the early skateboarding enthusiasts of the 1970s, and those that followed in subsequent decades and generations, to the extent that it now lays a claim to being the world’s longest continually used skate spot. Watch interviews with people who’ve skated the ‘little banks’ most of their life, and they talk fondly about the particular rhythm of wheels over concrete slabs, the physical scrapes on the surface that tell stories of a million tricks. There’s a palpable and invaluable connection between this public space and those who use it. And it’s that rare and vital thing, a historical site which continues to be used.
Like any space, it has evolved over time. In 2004 the first concrete blocks, specifically for skating, were added by skate-art collective Side Effects of Urethane, and they were soon followed by efforts to make the space safer – the introduction of new lighting and guard railings. And the previously plain grey brutalist concrete began to see colour added in the form of murals and graffiti.
Its ever-rotating paintwork reinforces the other side of the Undercroft Skate Space, as a home for artistic expression – not just graffiti, but videos and photography, plus the constant creativity of the skating itself. It’s been a venue for open jams and community events, as well as a reliable haunt for passing time with friends and legendary regulars, as well as a valuable space for meeting like-minded people.
It’s not always been a smooth ride. In 2013 the Southbank Centre announced plans to redevelop The Festival Wing, which would’ve seen the closure of the Undercroft. In response the skaters formed the non-profit group Long Live Southbank (LLSB) to oppose the plans, garnering huge support from the wider skating community and the public. After a tense 18 months, the plans were called off, and since 2016 LLSB and the Southbank Centre have worked together to maintain and improve the Undercroft.
This year, as this special space marks five decades at the forefront of UK skate culture, came the news that Queen Elizabeth Hall, Hayward Gallery and the associated walkways and spaces of this beloved brutalist beast have been awarded Grade II listing. The Undercroft is here to stay, potentially for another 50 years. Maybe even longer. Undercroft Hover Space anyone?
Stop by and lean over the railings today and you’ll see it rumbling with activity, packed with skaters of all abilities and backgrounds. If you skate, there’s space for you there – as part of a tight-knit community, and in a historic place preserved for the future by the skaters who use it.
This piece has been adapted and expanded from an earlier article by Thomas Lewis.