DISGRACELAND

STEVE SPITHRAY INVESTIGATES MIDDLESBROUGH’S EVER-EVOLVING ARTS HUB

Even nestled among Baker Street’s bohemian orthodoxy, Middlesbrough’s Disgraceland is something of an anomaly. Steadfastly retaining the squat couture Jane Jorgensen has overseen from its inception, which has brought ad-hoc takeovers by the likes of Sad For Life Records and artist and promoter Bobby Benjamin’s Picasso Baby series to the venue, not to mention the Sleaford Mods/ Coldwar Steve hijackings, Jane has also sought to move on with each iteration of the venue.

With Lockdown 2.0 seemingly here for the long haul in one form or another, it’s difficult to see how a place that thrives on this sort of relaxed creativity and general commotion moves forward. Disgraceland has evolved over the last two years from the vintage clothes store of the same name Jane ran from another disused terrace on the other side of the street, as she explained: “The inspiration for Disgraceland came from visiting Berlin many times in the 90s and drinking in the squat bars, I always loved the aesthetic and mood so I have done my best to bring that to Middlesbrough.”

DISGRACELAND HAS ALWAYS JUST GONE WITH THE FLOW; IT'S A PIECE OF ART IN ITSELF

Disgraceland is arguably the most DIY of all the small venues across Teesside just in the purity of its ethos. Jane told me what she has planned over the next few weeks although, as we will see, it’s a very loose ordering. “Every week we are doing Free Stage Friday, rather than calling it an open-mic night and using this beautiful stage,” Jane motions towards an indeed impressive raised platform adorned with Liz Collier’s instantly recognisable graffiti glyphs, “then there’s Slutmouth, John James Perangie, Danielle Boucher. We The Queers alt. drag runs once a month. Thursdays I’ve been showing films. We’ve done Sleaford Mods’ Bunch of Kunst and Electroma, the Daft Punk Film. Saturdays will remain ad hoc, whoever wants to do something can. We’ve got Little Picasso Baby in the pipeline. It was conceived with Bobby Benjamin. I’d thought about doing an open art night and it evolved from there.” It’s very much a ‘watch this space’ approach to promoting.

Part of Disgraceland’s enduring charm is its anti-chic interior design. “I just pick up stuff where I can,” Jane told me. So, upstairs a number of Tretchikoff-style portraits adorn the walls of a salvaged bar giving the venue a genuine sense of distressed grandeur. “When all the other bars in the street were doing their refurbs I was just picking stuff up from the back alley, but I think I’ve done a good job of it. The pictures I’ve had for years but sometimes if people see them in charity shops they get them for me…”

One nod to modernity is a large flat screen TV on the wall, but Jane explained: “if I’ve got an act on downstairs people can watch it up here as well.” While capacity being reduced from 110 to 36 has set its obvious challenges, Jane didn’t apply for the Cultural Recovery Fund partly down to her fiercely independent nature, but as the latest Coronavirus restrictions begin to bite hard she is coming round to the idea of help: “A lifeline now might be an Arts Council bid. Because Disgraceland has always just gone with the flow and it is an ever-evolving hub of art really. It’s a piece of art in itself.”

Find Disgraceland on Baker Street in Middlesbrough, and check their social media for info on future events www.facebook.com/disgrace.land.3