On board | Skateboard, Design Museum, London

“Skaters are influencing the hardware and the hardware inspires creativity.” This is a small line in a caption that sits below two dozen colourful wheels, a copy of Thrasher, which is one of the best-known skateboard magazines, and a well-ridden red skateboard. It captures the story of Skateboard and why it’s so comfortably placed in a museum that centres on design and innovation.

The exhibition, which opened in October and runs to June, spans seven decades of skate culture from inception to the current day, and looks at the evolution of the skateboard and the skaters who have innovatively pushed the culture forward.

More than a few skateboards are used to trace the history, as would be expected, but the curation thrives in its use of the objects and stories around the board that have become so intrinsic to the culture. The exhibition is laid out through a series of long display cases that guide you through a large basement room in west London’s Design Museum. As you weave between cases, you’re taken from the invention of the skateboard in the 1950s through seven decades of design in decks, wheels, trucks, ephemera and many accessories.

The daily grind

Initially crafted by kids looking for new ways to gain speed, and popularised by surfers practising in the absence of waves, skateboarding is now defined as a separate sport, movement and industry. Wall-text panels explain the styles and attitudes of skaters as each decade passed and their relation to the social and political shifts of the time.

The exhibition caters to lifelong skaters and those with an early interest. While some visitors may not want to read about every change in board customisation, their interest might be held through the provision of stepladders to see into displays and there is space to move around and observe more interactive elements.

To the side of the room is a video projection that narrates an abridged history over videos of skaters on streets and in parks, and there is also a place to take a seat if needed. Here, you’ll also find a deconstructable skateboard if you fancy having a go at building one yourself.

An audioguide with oral histories is available by downloading an app via a QR code. This relies on you having a working smartphone and museum wifi connection as you’re in the basement. Unfortunately, even when connected, the app is tricky to navigate.

There are photographs of street architecture around the galleries to encourage reconsideration of our urban environment and make clear the psycho-geographical relationship of the skater to the street.

Key historical moments are traced through copies of Thrasher, such as how the pioneering woman of 1990s street skating, Jamie Reyes, has inspired a generation of female skaters by gracing the magazine’s cover, and how professional skater Brian Anderson appeared on the cover without his board in 1999, symbolising the rise and rise of celebrity skaters at the turn of the millennium.

The evolution of skateboard media can be seen in an array of zines and pamphlets, cult status VHS tapes and an endless stream of content being uploaded to social media sites today, showing how much more globally accessible the sport has become. This worldwide influence is emphasised throughout the exhibition as the board comes to define its own subculture and lifestyle, becoming an education tool for NGOs worldwide and joining the array of Olympic sports since its debut at Tokyo 2020.

The growing inclusivity and diversity of the skateboard scene is highlighted, although the reasons why this has taken so long are not addressed. Skateboarding by nature is a sport invented around and using its urban environment creatively, so it makes sense that it has become a hotbed for social experimentation.

The alt scene

Skate culture is heavily associated with music spanning from rap to grunge, but the space is silent, with music referenced but not heard. However, the silence is cut through by the crashes of wood and scoops of wheels in the ramp at the end of the room. By paying a bit extra with your ticket you can gain access to a purpose-built skate ramp within the gallery space. Although most visitors choose to simply watch the spectacle, a playful dynamic replicates that of a skatepark.

In fact, the exhibition depends on these skaters being present to create an atmosphere in the otherwise quiet room. They bring the static boards on display alive in a way that highlights the physicality of the culture and its design. The novelty of a skate ramp in an art gallery attracts groups and meet-ups throughout the day. This reminds gallery-goers that skateboarding has always been about adapting to circumstances and getting on your board wherever you can, ultimately bringing the exhibition into the present.

Skateboard is vast in content so it is worth dedicating a couple of hours to take in all the texts and oral histories. The narrative is both introductory and educational for anyone new to the scene, while more deeply researched reflections can engage the design-focused visitor, and references to skate lore will appease the lifelong riders. The entrance and exit of the space features an acknowledgment of the many lived experiences that “may not always align” to a shared history.

Attention to storytelling is where the exhibition excels in ensuring visitors leave with an understanding of the importance of the sport, particularly to the communities that have adopted it. It’s through the repeated acknowledgement of the children, young people and teenagers who had the imagination to push forward on the streets and in bowls that has allowed the sport to reach higher heights.

The skateboard serves as a reminder of the way design is communally evolving. Only the people will know what the people need and so design becomes social history.

Esta Rae is the content manager at the Museum of Youth Culture in London