Imagine any household item you can possibly think of. Start with your bog-standard tea mug and toaster, then work your way up to items that leave your cupboard only on special occasions such as that fondue set your mother-in-law gave you. Then call to mind anything Star Wars related you’ve ever seen: the white and blue shape of R2D2, the greenish figure of Yoda, or the red hue of Darth Vader’s swooshing lightsaber. Now visualise these two worlds colliding in a gigantic smash. You’ll begin to get a picture of the fan memorabilia and merchandise eclecticism currently on display in the ‘The Fans Strike Back’ Star Wars exhibition in South Kensington.
When walking down Old Brompton Road on a sunny Saturday afternoon a few months back, nothing could have prepared me for the mind-boggling mix of paraphernalia I was to encounter from a galaxy far, far away. Wedged between an apartment block and a pizza restaurant, the suited security guard by the entrance made me think we were going to an exclusive Shisha lounge. After a stern look for having arrived ahead of our allocated time slots, we were ushered into the exhibition space.
While most visitors immediately gravitated towards a life-size Darth Vader figure, I was stopped in my tracks by an eerie sense of familiarity. I had been to this place before. Back then the space hosted the ‘Small is beautiful’ miniature exhibit. Providing ample photo opportunities and the right combination of mainstream appeal and quirkiness, it joined the ever-growing list of Instagrammable exhibits jostling for the capital’s attention. I soon discovered that this one was no different. Wobbly cardboard displays designed to look better in visitors’ selfies than in real life were carefully arranged under dimmed lights to conceal their low-production value.
You might have sensed it by now, but I wasn’t among the people eagerly eternalising their visit on their smartphones. I am not a Star Wars fan. However, the sight of a father and son bending intently over a custom-made lightsaber wiped the sceptical smirk off my face. Taking a closer look, I couldn’t help but notice a certain magic in this place. I have rarely seen an exhibition attracting such an age-diverse crowd. And one that was so refreshingly unapologetic about their obsession.
Walking past a Millennium Falcon replica made by a 50-year-old Liverpudlian at his kitchen table over the course of months, I revelled in how little moral ambiguity I felt when gazing at this object. Items here did not feel culturally appropriated but culturally appropriate. What could capture the idiosyncrasies, inequalities and affluence of our times better, than someone having the time and resource to re-create a fictional spaceship in painstaking detail? In an oddly specific way this modified Corellian light freighter – after all the visit was not for nothing – embodied to me the democratisation of what is considered exhibition-worthy.
After 90 minutes of wandering around (20 of which were spent indulging in the surprisingly spacious and light-flooded oasis of a ladies’ restroom), I emerge into the evening sunlight feeling a bit less jaded.
The feeling lasts until a vibration in my pocket reminds me that I just dropped £20 on this experience. The final bit of magic the ‘The Fans Strike Back’ Star Wars exhibition needs then, is to make tickets as widely accessible as the exhibition’s subject matter.