CANVAS & CULTURE


Fashion has always been a powerful medium for protest and social change. From the suffragettes’ white dresses to the punk movement’s DIY aesthetic, clothing has been used to convey messages of unity. In Manchester, protest fashion has historically been a force for activism, often reflecting the city’s spirit of defiance and resistance. However, as the global fashion industry embraces speed and mass production, the authenticity of its radical edge is fading.
Can fashion still serve as a tool for genuine change? When brands mass-produce slogans like ‘Save The Planet’ in exploitative sweatshops, activism is commodified for profit. Fast fashion’s commercialisation weakens its impact by turning activism into a fleeting trend, rather than a sustainable movement grounded in meaningful action. Is it still a statement of resistance, or has it just become another product on the shelves?
Vivienne Westwood.
Inthe past, protest movements have carefully used fashion as more than just fabric, creating a deliberate strategy to make their cause visible and unignorable. In the early 20th century, suffragettes wore white dresses to symbolise purity and strength, ensuring their fight for voting rights stood out in the male-dominated society. This required them to sacrifice their personal image, often subjecting them to public mockery for their unconventional attire. Their refusal to conform to societal expectations of femininity was daring and empowering.
In each of these cases, fashion was not just an accessory but a weapon of protest. It was about
creating solidarity and visibility, forcing people to engage with political messages. Unlike today’s mass-market activist fashion, these movements didn’t wear their beliefs passively, they lived them. They wore their faith on their sleeves – literally. These clothes didn’t just symbolise their determination; they also represented the sacrifices they made in challenging a society that marginalised them.
Similarly, the punk movement and the Black Panther Party proved that fashion could carry immense political weight, each expressing a defiant commitment to activism through their distinct and radical identities. In the 1960s, the Black Panthers used coordinated outfits, adopting black berets and leather jackets as a political uniform, projecting the image of strength and defiance against racial injustice. They continued to signal opposition in a visual way, despite marking them for targeting by law enforcement and broader society and exposing them to violence and persecution, illustrating how fashion became a tool for both resistance and personal risk. Then, the punk movement of the 1970s rejected mainstream consumerism by embracing DIY aesthetics, turning ripped clothing and provocative slogans into a form of anti-establishment rebellion.
In more recent years, fast fashion brands like H&M, Boohoo and PrettyLittleThing have capitalised on activism by selling clothing with slogans promoting feminism, climate change and LGBTQ+ rights. While these messages appear progressive, many of these brands have been criticised for their exploitative labour practices and environmental damage, directly contradicting the causes they claim to support.
“FAST FASHION IS NOT FREE. SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE IS PAYING THE PRICE.”
Lucy Siegle
One example of this hypocrisy is Boohoo’s ‘Feminist as F**’ glitter ball ornament and their ‘WMN’ t-shirt. Boohoo has been linked to sweatshops where workers were paid below minimum wage, highlighting the contradiction between its feminist messaging and its exploitative practices. Equally, the fast fashion industry is one of the largest contributors to environmental degradation, producing massive amounts of pollution and overconsumption, yet brands still sell ‘Save the Planet’ apparel, which ultimately becomes a symbol of performative activism as they offer superficial solutions that ignore the destructive practices behind their supply chains. Protest clothing is often worn as a passive display of solidarity, failing to confront the systemic issues behind exploitation. Consumers buy into these slogans without engaging in the difficult, often inconvenient, actions that real change demands, and so it doesn’t hold the same personal commitment that past protest movements did but instead simply becomes a substitute for real engagement.
While fashion has long been a powerful tool for activism, its effectiveness depends on intention and action. Today, consumerism strips protest fashion of its radical roots, turning it into another product for sale. When brands that exploit workers and harm the environment sell slogan merchandise promoting feminism and climate action, the message becomes diluted. Activism has been repackaged as a disposable trend, allowing people to wear their beliefs rather than act on them.
For fashion to remain a genuine force for protest, it must be backed by ethical choices and real activism. Supporting independent activist brands, demanding sustainable production and ensuring that activism extends beyond clothing are crucial steps in reclaiming fashion as a tool for resistance – we need to challenge the systems that allow corporations to profit off activism while perpetuating exploitation and environmental harm. After all, if a protest t-shirt was made in a sweatshop, is it really making a difference? If protest fashion is to be meaningful again, we must move beyond empty slogans and push for real change, from both brands and consumers alike.
In the vibrant heart of Manchester, the echoes of a musical revolution are resonating once more. Known for its rich tapestry of sound, from the gritty pulse of punk to the euphoric highs of the Manchester scene, this city is witnessing a powerful resurgence of artistic activism. Today, local musicians are making use of their creativity as a powerful tool to combat gentrification, funding cuts and the uprooting of beloved artistic communities. From the iconic Night & Day Café, which stands on the brink of closure due to noise complaints, to the graffiti-strewn streets of the Northern Quarter, the spirit of protest is alive and well. Many up-and-coming bands and artists are hosting benefit gigs to support displaced artists, while songwriters craft stories that capture the challenges and victories of their communities. This musical movement goes beyond simple entertainment; it represents a heartfelt struggle for the cultural identity and essence of Manchester.
Music has long been a potent catalyst for social change, acting as a unifying force, a call to action and a means of resistance to many individuals. In Manchester, this legacy continues as local artists harness music’s power to confront the challenges facing their creative communities. Through the use of politically charged lyrics, benefit concerts and impromptu performances in contested areas, musicians are transforming their craft into a dynamic form of activism.
This sonic rebellion not only amplifies the voices of those affected by gentrification and funding cuts but also fosters a sense of solidarity among Manchester’s residents, echoing the city’s historical tradition of using music as a tool for social justice. The power of music in protest lies in its ability to transcend barriers and evoke emotions in a way that spoken words often cannot. It has the capacity to galvanise crowds, create shared experiences, and provide a soundtrack for movements that can be remembered for generations.
In Manchester, this is evident in the way music brings together diverse groups of people such as; artists, activists, and community members who think alike to stand against the erosion of cultural spaces. Whether it’s a punk band’s defiant anthem or a hiphop artist’s poignant storytelling, music serves as a universal language that can mobilise, inspire and sustain the fight for a more inclusive and vibrant city.
One of the most pressing concerns among Manchester’s artists is the relentless gentrification sweeping through the city. Iconic venues that once nurtured underground music and grassroots creativity are facing existential threats.
The Night & Day Café, a cornerstone of Manchester’s music scene for over 30 years, has been battling noise complaints and potential closure since 2021. This struggle exemplifies the broader conflict between the city’s vibrant cultural heritage and the influx of new residents drawn to redeveloped areas. In response, musicians are mobilising through various means: organising protest concerts, releasing songs that critique the commercialisation of the city and by collaborating with community groups to raise awareness.
The impact of gentrification extends beyond i individual venues. The Ancoats area, once a haven for artists living on canal boats, has seen rising mooring fees push out creative communities. Meanwhile, new developments like The Factory, while promising to boost the arts scene, have been criticised for potentially accelerating gentrification and catering primarily to wealthier demographics. This sonic rebellion against gentrification isn’t just about preserving music venues; it’s a fight for the soul of Manchester’s creative identity. As property developers reshape the urban landscape,musicians are using their art to amplify the voices of long-time residents and maintain the city’s reputation as a crucible of musical innovation.
A pivotal form of resistance in Manchester has been the increase in protest gigs, including both impromptu and organised performances held in locations that are under threat. These events serve as more than just musical showcases; they are platforms for bands and solo artists to educate audiences about the pressing issues at stake. By using music as a medium for awareness, these gigs foster a sense of community and solidarity among attendees. Some collectives have taken this a step further by hosting clandestine underground events in abandoned spaces, symbolically reclaiming these areas as vibrant cultural hubs. This guerrilla approach not only challenges the status quo but also underscores the determination of Manchester’s artistic community to preserve its independent spirit.
Several Manchester-based musicians and collectives have become central figures in this movement. Artists like DJ Silva, known for his 30 years of experience playing Black music genres including rap, have been vocal about the struggles faced by the creative community, particularly regarding racial discrimination in venue bookings. Groups such as All Hands on Deck, a feminist DJ collective, have been organising events and workshops, raising awareness and using their platforms to call for change in the male-dominated DJ scene. These musicians are not just performers but activists, using their art to amplify the voices of those affected. Rappers like Oneda and collectives such as Big People Music have been pushing against the marginalisation of Black rap musicians in Manchester’s live music scene. Additionally, artists like André Jahnoi, a Liverpool-born hip-hop artist, have been using spoken word performances to address issues of gentrification and community unity. The collective efforts of these artists have not only raised awareness about the challenges faced by Manchester’s creative communities but have also inspired a new wave of activism. Through benefit concerts and community events, they have managed to mobilise support from a diverse range of stakeholders, from local residents to city officials. By leveraging their platforms to highlight the importance of preserving independent venues and promoting inclusivity in the music scene, these musicians are helping to shape a more vibrant and equitable cultural landscape for Manchester. Moreover, their commitment to using music as a tool for social change has inspired
“Raving in Manchester wasn’t just about the beats and the basslines; it was about community, freedom, and rebellion.”
Christopher Bugelsteiber.
Manchester’s music scene has long been a beacon of rebellion, with each generation of artists contributing to a legacy of resistance and creativity. From the raw energy of punk to the euphoric highs of Manchester, this city’s musicians have consistently used their art as a powerful tool for social change.
Today, as gentrification and commercialisation threaten the very fabric of Manchester’s cultural identity, its artists are once again rising to the challenge. Through protest gigs, underground movements, and digital activism, they are refusing to let their city’s creative heritage be silenced. This ongoing battle for cultural spaces is not just about preserving iconic venues; it’s a fight for the soul of Manchester itself—a city that has always thrived on its ability to innovate, to challenge, and to inspire.
As Manchester looks to the future, its sound of resistance remains a potent force, echoing through the streets and resonating with communities both local and global. This movement is not just a reaction to current challenges but a testament to the city’s enduring legacy of activism and artistic expression. Whether through the defiant anthems of local bands or the poignant storytelling of its rappers, Manchester’s music continues to amplify the voices of those who might otherwise be overlooked.
As the city evolves, its musicians remain at the forefront, ensuring that Manchester’s cultural identity remains a vibrant, inclusive, and unapologetically rebellious force for change.
Street art has emerged as a significant form of visual protest within contemporary urban environments. Operating outside conventional channels of political discourse, it enables individuals and communities to publicly express dissent, critique social inequalities, and contest dominant power structures. Through unauthorized interventions in shared public spaces, street art challenges established norms, offering an alternative medium for political commentary and cultural resistance.
Anonymity and Dissent: The Role of Graffiti in Public Protest Central to the effectiveness of street art as protest is the anonymity it affords it’s creators. Unlike other forms of public expression, street art allows individuals to voice dissent without attaching their personal identity, reducing the risk of legal consequences, social ostracism, or political retaliation. This anonymity not only protects the artist but also shifts the focus from the individual to the message itself. In contexts where open critique of authority is met with censorship or punishment, graffiti offers a subversive platform through which marginalized voices can participate in public discourse.
The faceless nature of these works allows for uninhibited commentary on sensi tive issues such as inequality, oppression, and governmental control. Moreover, anonymity can democratize protest art. It removes barriers of status, privilege, or formal artistic recognition, enabling broader participation in public debate. In this sense, graffiti becomes both a tool of personal empowerment and a collective form of resistance, inscribing dissent directly onto the urban landscape.
Global Reach: Graffiti occupies a unique position as a global mode of protest, transcending linguistic and cultural boundaries through its reliance on visual symbols, stylistic conventions, and spatial presence.
While the content of graffiti may vary according to local social and political contexts, its form and function as an act of public dissent remain widely recognizable. A notable feature of contemporary graffiti culture is the widespread use of Latin script for tagging and signatures, even in regions where it is not the dominant writing system.
This practice reflects the influence of globalized street art traditions and positions graffiti as part of a transnational visual language of resistance. By prioritising visual impact and stylistic identity over verbal clarity, graffiti communicates across language barriers, enabling messages of defiance, solidarity, and critique to circulate Internationally. In this sense, the walls of cities from Cairo to Berlin to São Paulo become interconnected platforms for shared protest, where local struggles are Inscribed into a global dialogue of resistance.
Graffiti operates as an inherently subversive act by challenging established norms surrounding public space and property rights. By inscribing unauthorised messages onto walls, signs, and infrastructure, graffiti artists contest the authority of property owners and governing bodies to control urban environments. This deliberate defiance transforms everyday spaces into sites of resistance, positioning graffiti as a rebellious gesture against the status quo and the regulated order of the city.
While large scale murals and elaborate street art pieces often capture public attention, it’s the smaller, more accessible forms of graffiti - like stickers, tags, and stencilled slogans that resonate most intimately with everyday people.
These modest acts of expression are scattered across bus stops, street signs, and alleyways, blending into the fabric of daily life Their informal, often DIY nature makes them feel more personal and relatable, reflecting the concerns, humor, and frustrations of ordinary individuals rather than commissioned artists or institutions. Because anyone with a marker, sticker, or stencil can participate, these small scale interventions democratise public space, turning the city itself into an open conversation where everyone, regardless of status or skill, has a chance to be heard.
By contrast, commissioned, Commission: Can
Once an unfiltered voice of the designated spaces, and streets, graffiti has increasingly approval from the very found itself invited into the mainstream. In recent years, city councils, businesses, and cultural institutions have begun commissioning street artists to create sanctioned murals, celebrating the once-outlawed form of expression. While this shift has elevated graffiti’s visibility and artistic value, it raises important questions about the implications for its power as a tool of protest.
At its core, graffiti’s effectiveness lies in its defiance process. As graffiti moves — its ability to disrupt public space and challenge authority without permission. The act of creating unsanctioned art in forbidden places transforms the urban landscape into a canvas for dissent. By contrast, commissioned pieces often come with limitations: curated messages, designated spaces, and approval from the very Institutions graffiti traditionally sought to confront. This transition from illegal actto public art project risks diluting graffiti’s critical edge. When protest art becomes part of an approved cultural program, its message can be softened, its radical potential absorbed into the system it once resisted. While commissioned works still carry aesthetic and cultural value, their capacity to disrupt, provoke, and resist authority may be compromised in the e process. As graffiti moves between the margins and the mainstream, the question remains: can an act of rebellion stay rebellious when it’s been invited to the table?
Across 2. Subculture that emerged in Manchester, influencing radical fashion and protest.
Organised group of workers fighting for better wages and conditions.
6. Campaign against animal cruelty in the fashion industry
7. Iconic British designer who fused punk fashion with activism, influencing Manchester's style scene. 10. 1819 massacre that shaped voting rights in the UK.
Manchester arts venue where artists protested the cancellation of a Palestinian and trans liberation in a commissioned work.
1. Manchester-born leader of the suffragettes. pivotal in women's voting rights.
3. The fashion industry's impact on the environment has sparked protests in Manchester.
5. Annual Manchester event that began as a protest for LGBTQ+ rights.
8. Unsafe and unfair factories where workers face poor conditions.
9. Manchester-based fast-fashion brand criticised for worker exploitation in 2020.
07 Mar – 01 Jun 2025
Women in Revolt
The Whitworth
A bold exhibition exploring feminist art and activism in the UK.
Until 31 Dec 2025
Climate Justice
Manchester Art Gallery
An urgent look at climate activism and environmental equity through global art.
Until 31 Dec 2025
Rethinking the Grand Tour
Manchester Art Gallery
A critical reimagining of classical travel narratives and imperial legacies.
Until 08 Jun 2025
Imran Perretta: A Riot in Three Acts
HOME
A powerful audio-visual exploration of identity, race, and resistance.
10 Apr 2025
Imran Perretta and Dhanveer Singh Brar in Conversation
HOME
A compelling dialogue chaired by Rahila Haque on politics, sound, and storytelling.
Until 29 Dec 2025
2025 Banner Exhibition
People’s History Museum
Historic and contemporary protest banners reflecting voices of resistance.
Until 29 Sep 2025
Collection Spotlight
People’s History Museum
A curated focus on underrepresented artefacts from the museum’s archives.
Glorious Manchester. A home to never ending rain, industrialisation and revolutionary actions. Amongst her many achievements, most notably the gift to music from the 1970s onwards, can we add ‘protest city’ to her titles? Since her pre-industrial age and industrial hey-day, Manchester has been home to movements that shook up the status quo. To name a few, the suffragettes, Peterloo, creation of the communist manifesto, Chartism and the pan-African congress; not to mention countless other movements that slid under the radar. Living and working in Manchester today I am constantly surrounded by grassroots movements, protests or union work committed by other members of the community, and every day there is something new to learn about, to support and to help progress. With the current political climate being as volatile and dynamic as it is, Manchester’s population keeps with the times and is committed to striving for change through any means possible. The streets are often bustling with protesters walking along with banners held high, the sounds of music and chants fill the air, and a sense of urgency and hope. Most recently, and relevant in my own life, Unite has been making noise and complaints against a hospitality giant, the old Almost Famous owners, who had closed down all their sites without any warning or paying their workers their owed wages and tips. Setting up picket lines along the company’s other sites such as Super Awesome Deluxe displaying camaraderie with the workers who had been exploited, and the support has been immense online too. A kind of solidarity that is inherently close to the personality of the north. Even when causes aren’t close to home, the people of Manchester are uniting for international causes, showing a sympathetic unity with the wider world, for example the Palestinian liberation cause. Overall, Manchester can be considered a proud, and vocal protest city. She has a long history of support and will carry it on for decades to come.
is a protest
artist, who in the late 60s through to the 80s, worked with the Black Panther’s as their Minister of Culture and Revolutionary Artist of the Party.
Born in 1943, Michigan, he moved to San Francisco as a young by. As a teenager Emory would be incarcerated at a youth training facility in California; this is where he was fist introduced to the practice of printmaking through their workshop spaces, making use of what little machinery and supplies they had available. In his lateteens, early twenties, Emory would study graphic and commercial design at San Francisco City College, where he focused on the Black consumer, making points to represent the African American population at length in his works. Through his own lived experiences as a young Black man in mid-century America, Emory was drawn to the ideas and the presence of the Black Panther Party with its ideas of hope for a better future for both themselves and the children, it’s constant battle against racism and its push for the right to bare arms against police brutality. Emory would become a key player in how the party presented itself to the American population, taking his place as head artist of the highly popular Black Panther newspaper, where his art took centre stage to educate the masses and to pass on the Black Panther’s message of revolution, power and hope.
Douglas’ work is characterised by both subject matter and style. From first glance we can decipher that Douglas was inspired by woodcut printing, but in order to adapt to time and budgetary constraints he had taken the style and found easier and time effective ways to make them work. The nature of how his work was utilised, through the newspaper, posters or flyers, was fast-paced and demanded a quick turnaround of idea to paper to printing, and thus Douglas’ signature style was born out of the needs of a revolution.
Adapting to the demands of the Black Panther party had meant that Douglas could not explore multi-colour in his works, most of his pieces from around his time in the party were two-colour prints: Black and one bold colour (oftentimes purple) to help contrast against the heavy black lines and draw your eye in to the piece. His background in commercial advertising art studies had given him enough experience, and the mindset, to create eye-catching, personal and impactful work that would influence the audience and showcase a message purely through visual imagery.
Douglas’ work is also recognisable by his usage of bold, graphic silhouettes, aforementioned influenced by the woodcut style of printing, that he achieved using very limited resources like black ink, markers and pens- to mimic woodcut style without the tedious and expensive process of carving. He also brought in they use of photomontage and collage pieces to fit in with his drawn works to make use of real pictures taken from reality, to make his work seem more realistic and not a product of drawn fiction.
The audience for these works were immense, during the height of printing the Black Panther newspaper, it had a circulation of around 200,000 an issue. Not to mention the many hundreds of thousands more that would’ve seen Douglas’ work around cities up on posters and flyers as a part of daily life and existing around the movements of the
Black Panther Party. His work would have impacted more than just the members of the party, but the much wider American population.
In an interview with MoMA in 2023, Emory proclaimed “culture is a weapon”, and we can see evidence of this idea in his early works, the subject matter was reflective of the party’s ideas that Black Power is strong, that they will change the status quo, and that they will achieve equality, rights and representation. By any means necessary.
The modern caricature of police as pigs actually part-derived from Douglas. Taking from the pre-existing slang he created a visual image of a pig on its hind legs, covered in flies, obese and wearing police uniform. This image would spark the ever-present image of police as pigs that would ricochet around the world. His idea was to not present them as human but an anthropomorphic beast that only protected the rights of the few, were lazy and disgusting as a result of their constant attacks, profiling and harassment on Black and immigrant communities.
“Not just a ‘me’ art But a ‘we’ art”
Emory Douglas, Criterion Designs, 2021 One of the main goals of the art we see in the newspaper is the acknowledgement that much of their readership may be unable, lack the time or the effort to read the long essay style written work by the party leaders. So the objective for Emory was to make his work in such a way that the readers could “get the gist of the story by seeing the artwork and reading the captions”, the visual identity of his art would reflect the perspective f the party, and easily portray that to the readership without much effort, time or thought. A quick fix of information about their politics, ideas and identity that could be determined from a single glance. Visual imagery used by political movements were utilised as a tool for raising political consciousness, as Emory put it “project and mage that frightened America”, but an image of reality for many African American citizens.
Emory Douglas’ work is still an inspiration to many revolutionary artists today, as well as being one of the biggest creative minds behind the curation of the visual indemnity of the Black Panther’s that encapsulated the zeitgeist of the 1960s to the 1980s. He was, and still is, a truly profound political artist.
[Hint: Use words found in crossword]
Manchester has always been a key place for LGBTQ+ activism in the UK, shaped by both long-standing oppression and incredible resilience. From secret meetings in the 19th century to the lively Pride events we see today, the city’s story is one of ongoing battles for equality, dignity, and visibility. This article looks at the key moments, influential people, and transformative protests that have defined Manchester’s LGBTQ+ community, highlighting its role as a centre of advocacy and solidarity.
The history of LGBTQ+ life in Manchester starts in a time of criminalization and secrecy. In 1880, the Manchester City Police raided a fancy dress ball at the Temperance Hall in Hulme, arresting 47 men for “improper actions.” This early instance of state-sanctioned harassment set the stage for years of marginalization. Things began to shift slightly in the mid-20th century. Napoleons, the city’s oldest gay bar, opened in the 1940s, and The Union pub became a safe space for drag performances and queer community during World War II. But even then, persecution continued, as seen in the tragic case of Alan Turing, the brilliant computer scientist prosecuted in 1952 for his relationship with another man. His suicide in 1954 still stands as a heartbreaking reminder of that era’s cruelty. The 1960s marked the beginning of organized activism. In 1964, Labour councillor Allan Horsfall founded the North West Homosexual Law Reform Committee, which campaigned for the recommendations of the Wolfenden Report that called for decriminalizing consensual same-sex acts between adults. This grassroots movement, rooted in Manchester, helped lay the foundation for the 1967 Sexual Offences Act—a law that partially decriminalized homosexuality but still excluded many, including those under 21 and men in the armed forces. Around the same time, Rose Robertson founded Parents Enquiry (later FFLAG), offering crucial support for families grappling with their children’s LGBTQ+ identities.
Manchester Pride has come a long way, reflecting the community’s journey from being pushed to the margins to stepping into the spotlight. What started in 1985 as the Gay Pub and Club Olympics was met with police surveillance and public disdain. Back then, participants faced “licentious dancing” raids and had to hide away in darkened bars, seeking refuge in Canal Street’s emerging Gay Village. By the 1990s, though, Pride began to gain momentum, thanks to growing support from the Labour Party and the Village becoming more commercialized. Today, the festival draws in thousands, mixing celebration with activism—raising millions for LGBTQ+ charities and drawing attention to issues like HIV awareness.
The Pride in Ageing initiative, launched by the LGBT Foundation in 2025, is a prime example of this balanced approach. The program expands support for older LGBTQ+ people, tackling issues like isolation and healthcare gaps, and fostering intergenerational solidarity. These efforts show that Pride is not just about celebrating past victories but about shaping an inclusive future for everyone.
Manchester’s LGBTQ+ history is one of resilience and community. From the clandestine balls of the 19th century to the thunderous protests against Section 28, the city has repeatedly demonstrated its capacity for resistance. Activists like Allan Horsfall, groups such as the Manchester Gay Alliance, and pivotal moments like the Never Going Underground march all stand as proof of the strength in collective action. But the fight isn’t over. As Manchester Pride continues to evolve and new generations step up, the city’s LGBTQ+ community remains watchful, pushing for inclusivity, challenging injustice, and honouring its rich history. As activist Peter J. Walsh, whose photos captured the 1988 protest, puts it: “These images are not just history; they’re a reminder that visibility is survival.” Manchester’s legacy, built through protest, stands as a powerful reminder of that truth.