One could write a book about the ways gay men & lesbians
have created in order to live (and love) together in the last century and a half and indeed then, it is not surprising that Matt Cook has done exactly that, and produced a fascinating, detailed account of the history of the concept of alt.family life in London in the last 150 years or so. He makes hugely important and detailed observations about the issues, challenges, prejudices and superimposed moralities that gay men (and lesbians) faced in the period, especially in the GLF glory days of the 1970’s and 80’s in London. He does however concentrate on ‘couplings’ mostly in his case studies and only offers us a short (though nevertheless detailed) section on co-habiting in groups together in London, by using the perhaps most famous example, the Brixton Railton Road gay community, of which more later.
There is of course some history attached to communities of lesbians and gay men living together stretching back into the early part of the twentieth century and before, so it was not altogether surprising (although undoubtedly fortuitous for me personally) that co-op’s such as the one called ‘April‘ (formed in April and with an umbrella sheltering gay men and lesbians under it, as its logo) existed in Hackney, in the 1980’s.
In fact, there was some experimentation of alternative ways of living back in the middle of the nineteenth century, for example in the house where the writer and philanthropist Edward Carpenter lived openly with his partner George Merrill. Their home at Millthorpe in rural Derbyshire became both a refuge and place of pilgrimage for those who were openly challenging the customs of Victorian society. People such as the writer E M Forster (who modelled his novel Maurice on the working-class Merrill), the artist William Morris and the poet Siegfried Sassoon all visited Millthorpe at one time or another.
The luxury of two baths!
Charleston Farmhouse, nestling below the South Downs in East Sussex was another early example of such a community, with various members of the Bloomsbury set decamped there from 1916 onwards, some hugely influenced by Carpenter´s work and studies. The artist Vanessa Bell and her lover Duncan Grant, together with his then lover, David Garnett, moved there at that time; Bell’s husband also stayed there frequently and their children grew up there. It was ‘a deliberate attempt to re-organise the ethos of home and family life to allow alternative sexual relationships, new gender roles and artistic creativity to flourish’. There is a marvellous photo (see below) from the mid 1920´s of various members of the Bloomsbury group: Roger Fry, Clive Bell and Duncan Grant, dressed immaculately in tweed jackets ties and waistcoats standing in the garden at Charleston watching Vanessa Bell cutting Lytton Strachey’s hair. That is very much an ethos I can relate to from my short life housing days (not the suits and waistcoats though..).
Homes and Domestic spaces website: Experiments in Domestic living, 1920
During the Second World War in 1940, the artists Cedric Morris and his partner Arthur Lett-Haines, who met on Armistice Night in 1918, moved to the 16th-century Benton End in Hadleigh, Suffolk, where they lived until their deaths (in 1982 and 1978 respectively). They created the East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing as an alternative to London’s commercial art scene. Benton End was both a communal, domestic and artistic space, welcoming both live-in and day students, and hosting famous dinner parties. Its visitors included Vita Sackville-West, Benjamin Britten, Peter Pears and Maggi Hambling, and the two men created an atmosphere which has been described as ‘both robust and coarse; exquisite and tentative…faintly dangerous.’
Clive Bell, Duncan Grant and guest look on
By the late 1960s, into the seventies with the further development of the wider gay liberation (and women’s) movements, the idea of living together communally as an alternative to the more traditional family structure was becoming more viable, indeed quite desirable. There were squats in London in particular, in Brixton and Hackney but also other areas of London too, and indeed in other cities across the UK. It’s important to understand that squatting in residential property only became a criminal offence in September 2012, (though technically there were other ways to evict squatters before then). These houses and areas often by their very nature became centres of community and political organisation.
In particular, as mentioned, one of the most well known alt communities was centred around the rundown unused council properties around Railton Rd in Brixton. From around March 1974, a group known as the ‘South London Gay Liberation’ movement squatted 78, Railton Road in Brixton and opened the South London Gay Community Centre. This then, attracted a wider group, who squatted further unoccupied houses in the area, especially those in Railton Road and Mayall Road, (there was a common garden between them). I went out with several people who lived here in the early to mid eighties, so spent a little time there- and it was also the unofficial HQ of the ‘Gay Noise’ collective too, of which more later. I was also there during the infamous Brixton riots of the early eighties, which occurred in the period in which I was living at my first April house in Bethune Rd, N16, going out on and off with a rather handsome guy called Mikah, who lived in Brixton in Mayall Rd, closeby.
The group in Railton Road and others in the area set up the 121 Centre on Railton Road. It was eventually evicted in 1999, but had acted as a venue to host events and in the 1980’s also regularly printed a squatters newspaper called ‘Crowbar‘. Eventually, most of these squats were ‘dismantled’ from the late 1980’s or incorporated into housing co-ops. For example, at the Railton Road squats, whilst the communal gardens remained, the buildings were divided up into single occupancy units and incorporated into the Brixton Housing Co-operative, (which continues to reserve homes for LGBTQ tenants). Similarly over in Notting Hill, West London there were other Gay Liberation Front communes, notably the Colville Terrace community and the lesbian feminist Faraday Road community off Ladbroke Grove. There was also a popular gay commune called Wild Lavender in South London for a time too.
At one stage in the mid 1970’s it was estimated that around 30,000 people throughout Greater London had reclaimed, repaired and squatted thousands of empty dwellings earmarked for demolition. A significant percentage of those people were lesbian or gay. For example in 1971, the Greater London area contained 23,100 empty dwellings awaiting demolition; twenty-nine percent of this housing stock was built before 1875 and sixty-seven percent between 1875 and 1919.
Sisterhood and squatting in the 70s, Urban change in Hackney
Recognising the huge issue and challenges this faced, a 1969 urban development plan in London had identified five Inner London Boroughs – Tower Hamlets, Newham, Southwark, Lambeth and Hackney – as containing seventy percent of Inner London’s ‘unfit houses’. These were houses which lacked the three essential household amenities: exclusive use of their own water supply (including hot water), a bath, and an indoor toilet. Quite remarkably, even by 1969, only thirty-six percent of Hackney households had all three amenities. It goes someway to explaining why London boroughs like Hackney had so much housing stock in the early to mid seventies that was not being lived in, as it built large new tower blocks on monolithic estates re-housing it’s council tenants, with all three amenities taken for granted. The old stock was degenerating every year as a result, and much was being demolished. In fact in some boroughs the houses were initially partially destroyed, simply to prevent reoccupation.
Hackney did have some history in relation to offering refuge for gay men and lesbians (albeit in squatted properties) before ‘April’. For example by the late 1970’s there were as many as an estimated fifty women-only squatted households scattered throughout the streets behind the Broadway Market area, including one continuous terrace of seven women’s squats on Lansdowne Drive. The majority of the women living there identified as lesbians. However, in most of the houses essential services like water and electricity needed to be re-connected and by the mid 1970s there were women electricians and plumbers who were skilled enough to be able to assist new squatters reinstate these essential services.
However, things quickly changed when the Conservatives gained control of the GLC in 1977. With Horace Cutler as Leader and George Tremlett in charge of housing, a right-wing agenda was introduced, with the aim of ending the GLC’s role as a provider of council housing for rent, this to be achieved by selling off council housing and by transferring the GLC’s considerable housing stock to the London boroughs. The GLC had actually handed out ‘licences to squat’ previously; suddenly this all ceased. Squatters were offered new housing in ‘hard to let flats’ (often on the old 1920-30’s inner London estates) and the larger houses then sold off very cheaply, mainly to middle class professionals able to buy them, to refurbish with special grants from councils.
Those who objected to a move to the ‘hard to let flats’ or individual home ownership and who wished to remain in their homes and retain control over their housing, were given the option to form housing co-operatives, hence the Broadway Market Squatters Association split into three separate housing co-ops, one of which became London Fields co-op in 1978.
This period in the early to mid 1980s saw the rise of a new housing ‘bureaucracy’ needed to organise and fund short-life repairs and licences for newly created housing co-operatives. Short-life funding for basic repairs was available for co-ops, which had not been given funding to purchase their properties but were allowed to manage them until they were either sold, often to newly created Housing Associations, or refurbished to go back into council’s housing stock.
For example, some of these housing co-ops in Hackney then became members of the ‘Short Life users group’ (‘SLUG’), an organisational arm that facilitated the necessary co-ordination between the co-ops and the council’s housing department itself. There was agreement that some of the housing stock in Hackney, that was not going to be demolished, could be used by needy groups for short life periods, until the houses were scheduled to be repaired and sold or re-let. To ensure legality with then current law, a peppercorn rent was charged (around £5 a week). As Hackney had already many lesbians living in the Broadway Market and subsequent co-ops, it was perhaps no surprise that a group called April, (simply as it was formed in April and no one could agree on a better name), was developed to assist further groups of lesbians and gay men to live in some of the short life houses that became available. Initially, these were mainly same sex houses but in time these often became more mixed.
Often, over time, the people living there would form close bonds and so when a house was needed they would all move to a new house together as a group. In fact I did this no less than three times in April Co-op, to Hackney houses in Carysfoot Rd, Cassland Rd and finally Leadale Rd. Quite often, the date of planned work commencement & refurbishment by the councils contractors would be put back again & again though, due to delays on work which had already commenced or a lack of funding, so for example, an initial house offered for 6 months might in fact be occupied for more than 2 years in the end as we did in Cassland and Leadale Road. Sometimes though, disputes arose in houses and two people living together would fall out with each other. There could be many reasons for this but the most common were when there was a clash of personalities, when two people in the same house had formed a relationship but it had then broken up, or when one member of the house started seeing another members partner. All these events occurred relatively regularly in my time with April. One person would then be asked -or ask -to move out of their old house to a new one (assuming one was available) and a new vacancy would become available in that house. At one stage in April, there were about 10 houses, each with about 5 people living in them, so making about 50 April residents in all. Some of the Co-ops had more houses than us, some less.
Remarkably, given its significance then and now, there seems to be very little documentation online about ‘April’ Housing Co-op. Whilst there is plenty about squatted gay communities houses (as I mentioned above, especially in the Railton Rd area of Brixton, South London) the (legal) housing co-op in Hackney, which lasted a good 15 years or so is seemingly not well documented. This is a surprise to me, as it was to play a great role in my life and those of many other gay men & lesbians, who lived its short life housing stock for some years. Suffice to say, as I grew up, I had absolutely no idea that such possibilities existed and when I did think more deeply about it, was very worried about what the future might hold for me in this area. In retrospect I needn’t have been worried, as in fact I have had an infinitely more richly diverse experience of living arrangements in the last four decades than almost all heterosexuals I’d imagine (and probably most gay men as well, truth to tell).
My first April house, 80, Bethune Road N16, where I initially moved after my mutual split with Gary and Fordwych Rd, was a large four story house, close to the reservoirs on the ‘New River’, just east of Manor House tube. These houses now sell for around 600,000 pounds. Oh, how we would have chuckled then. When I moved in there were five of us there: Brian, Tony, Steve, Don and myself. Before I’d moved in, the guys had been knocking down a wall, that had separated the house into two flats, in the middle part of the 20th century and so there was a load of rubble left down in the basement, which was only slowly cleared in my time there. We didn’t have a huge amount of furniture either, so it was pretty spartan. However, it had a reasonable kitchen with hot water, (this was deemed essential in all houses), toilet and sink so it could have been a lot worse. I thought it had a proper bathroom too, but someone I saw for a time, Monty, and remain in contact with today, reminded me recently that there wasnt one in fact! How did we shower then?! I can’t recall but probably at other April houses which had them. I had a rather small back room overlooking the long narrow garden at the back, I remember, which I made as homely as possible. It was, truth be told, one of the more austere houses I’ve lived in, very different from the relative homeliness of another April house in Cassland Rd, that I lived in later.
I recently got back into contact with Steve in fact, after nearly four decades had passed, on facebook and there is something about this renewed contact with others who shared your past for a time, that always seems quite special to me. It’s also particularly special simply to know they have survived the intervening period, with everything that was to be thrown at us, in the intervening years.
Another housemate Don, was an intelligent, highly politicised but somewhat tortured soul and we had a rather tempestuous relationship at times but he was certainly a very thoughtful and caring person that I learnt a lot from, in time. I still have most of the various apologetic cards, notes and letters that he would give to me, after we had had yet another clash of personalities and requisite shouting match. Flossie, one began, after we had rowed then made up and understood each other much
better (we had nicknames for each other, very Wildean, I suppose; I had nice teeth), ‘I’m sorry but I’m also very glad too! Love Don’. And a birthday card too, with on the front a picture of an extremely camp Nijinsky, as the Golden Slave in Scheherazade in 1910, inscribed ‘Drink, dance and be extremely gay on your birthday, love and kisses Don. Ps Leave Nijinski (sic) alone, he’s going out with Diaghalev!’ He was a sweetie. A difficult sweetie sometimes but nevertheless..
Tony, who was Dutch and Steve and Brian were very much easier to live with and generally sweetness and light. On the whole, the experience was a very good one though and whetted my appetite for further, slightly unconventional, communal living. One of the benefits as I’ve mentioned, of having a large old house to live in without a lot of furniture, is that you can have large parties and not have to worry too much about the decor being ruined. Which we certainly didn’t.
One of the first parties that we held there was a ‘Nuclear Alert party’; my invitation shows a drawing I’d made of a man with his eyes bandaged. Retrospectively (even to me) it seems slightly offensive and risque but don’t forget these were pretty dystopian times.
It didn’t seem at all odd then. We invited everyone we knew and told them to bring friends- and we knew quite a few people. The house was rammed but I can’t remember much more about it. I don’t think the police came to complain about the noise (always a bonus) but I can’t be sure of that. Luckily, it was the last house in an otherwise terraced block in the street, so having no ‘party walls’ on one side helped.
It is now possible to revisit the scene of past dalliances on google streetview and there it still sits: in 2008 looking fresh with a newly painted dark blue door and neatly trimmed box hedge but by 2020 with an untrimmed hedge in an unloved garden and a now, rather scrubby, light blue door, bringing back vivid memories of who lived and what happened in each room some forty years ago. Do you ever imagine what happened in your house in the past? What each room might tell you? It’s a well worn trope now but still quite fascinating I always think. I know those rooms could tell some interesting stories.
We were to have many other parties, especially at 19, Leadale Rd which I lived in with Gus, Nick, Sue and Pauline, where on the 7th May 1982, I still have an invitation we sent out far and wide to a ‘May Day do-da’, and open house from noon, with brunch at 1pm, afternoon tea at 4pm and from 7.30 cocktails and a late supper party. Which all sounds far more civilised than I now, vaguely recall, it turned out. It was a success though clearly, as on the 6th June 1983, we were having our ‘Second Tacky Cocktail Party‘ at Leadale Rd, (after other parties in between) with the requested dress code being ‘austere tackiness’. My ex housemate Gus. has recently said he remembers coming down in the morning, finding various people still passed out in the front room and a pool of green Creme de Menthe in the middle of the kitchen table. I can attest to that as I also recall rather better now, that the amount of spilt, sweet liquor (think a mix of creme de menthe, curacao and advocaat), which had run off the kitchen table, was enough to ensure the kitchen floor was exceptionally sticky for the next few weeks, despite our best efforts to clean it. Suffice to say, a good time was had by all.
Actually we had two burgalaries in this house, the last one in mid winter with snow on the ground, when the police were delighted to be able to follow the footprint tracks down the road and ascertain that the burglar had been accompanied by a small child, who had squeezed in through the tiniest window in the back and had scoped out other properties before trying ours. There really was little of value to take to be honest, apart from a video recorder, which I recall had a bootlegged gay porno tape inside. We were more concerned about being done for that than the robbery I recall. At yet another April house, 79, Cassland Road, in Hackney E9, we had to ´turn one room into a bathroom with bath and toilet, as there wasnt one inside when we arrived. it was here too that we also had a small fire, when the cat knocked over a two bar electric stove left on, when we went to Hackney Tesco supermarket shopping. We came back to find the house full of smoke and a small fire in the living room, which luckily, as we caught it in time, only damaged the carpet and singed the floor boards and was easily dealt with. Since then I have always been excessively fire conscious, whenever I go out. Especially now, with two cats around!
I was also to become very involved with April for some time, becoming its representative on that ‘Hackney Short Life User Group’ (which went by the delightful acronym of SLUG), which met regularly to assess needs, check in on how everyone was doing and give up to date news on house repossession and new house availability. As I’ve mentioned, the great thing about the houses is that they were completely legal and not squats, (which were always struggling with problems about getting electricity, water and gas put on and liable to be raided by the police).
They also taught the people living in them basic DIY, plumbing and electrical wiring principles, for which there would be related workshops, every so often. All of the work we carried out had to be checked over by a professional, who would then give the go ahead that it could be connected by the relevant authority and used. The project was to continue till 1993, when Hackney council sold most of its short-life stock to those residents who were able (and wanted) to get mortgages and put the rest on the open market.
The concept really was a great one though: to make use of unloved properties creatively for specific groups or communities through local councils, recognising that such co-ops could substantially reduce the previous reliance on ‘undesirable lodgings’ which some landlords were offering then at inflated prices and help to house many vulnerable members of the community. By the mid 1990’s though, with the policy of selling off council stock to tenants at reduced rates for them to own firmly established, London councils were attempting to transfer their “Shortlife” stock, which was still not usable, as part of their main stock to Housing Associations to look after instead but such deals often evaporated due to frequent policy changes.
There are however, thankfully, some co-ops still trying to work within the more restrictive boundaries, laws and legislation now; for example Lambeth United Housing and Phoenix Community Housing Co-op in Hackney which declares on its website: ‘We’re told short-life is over in London, but we’re not yet willing to give up. Phoenix has worked with short-term leasing for over 30 years. We have managed houses and flats with a ‘life’ of anything from six months to 10 years‘.
On a positive note, one of the legacies of these squats and co-ops was the formation, as far back as 1983 of Stonewall, a housing co-operative initially set up by a small group of women concerned that housing providers disregarded lesbians and gay men (and not to be confused with the larger campaigning group of that name which was in fact set up later). Stonewall still provides help support and advice to the LGBTQ community in London, with 13 paid workers on its staff.
On to Sex, love and life (The rituals) 2.15 Icebreakers and the early’ alt discos’
