Making East London: An Interview with Rene Matić 

Can you briefly describe your practice and the questions or ideas that guide your work?  

My practice is an ongoing interrogation of intimacy between people, bodies, and spaces. Working across different technologies of surveillance, I explore the quiet, often unspoken tensions and tenderness that shape our relationships to one another and the environments we inhabit. Through images, sound, sculpture and text I seek to archive moments of love and fleeting moments that might otherwise be lost, rendering them as both personal and collective memory. 

At the heart of my work is an exploration of interracial relationships, not only in the romantic or familial sense but in the broader ways histories, identities, and spaces converge and collide in Britain. 

All my work comes together in a meeting place I like to describe as rude(ness) which really means to interrupt and exist in/between.  

How did you come to work this way? What are particular moments, influences or experiences that shaped your practice? 

I feel in between so many things; gender, race, sexuality, space… my work is about finding love within that. It is about what saves us, even just for a moment.  I am influenced by moments of love even when love is lacking.  

Can you describe your commission for V&A East Storehouse or Museum?  

I am producing a series of photographic light boxes. The form of which is inspired by a reggae sound system rig. There are 8 lightboxes that hold 8 images (some from my archive, some new). They are a quiet witnessing. A tracing of how music becomes a memory, a mirror, a way of being held. The photographs will look for music in the gestures of people. These are the records we carry without even knowing—songs that raised us, rooms that shaped how we move through rhythm and language, basslines we grew inside of. 

How did you begin developing this work? What was your starting point?  

My starting point was easy and I had already been trying to incorporate the influence of sonic cultures in my visual practice. For one of my first ever solo shows I used 1970’s speakers in the space to play a sound piece. The aesthetic of the speakers with their teak wooden boxes has informed the way I frame everything, especially my photos. I used this opportunity to push that even further.  

Music constitutes a significant component of my practice, stemming from a sustained interest in subcultural formation—particularly the skinhead movement. Originating in 1968, the skinhead subculture emerged through the convergence of white working-class and West Indian communities in Britain—my own cultural inheritance. Both groups, positioned at the margins of British society, forged within these spaces a shared identity grounded in music, style, politics, and dance.  

The term rudeness, which I employ to describe my work, derives from the Jamaican Rude Boy subculture. When Rude Boy culture arrived in Britain and entered into dialogue with white working-class life on the estates, the skinhead emerged as a hybrid figure.  

I am particularly interested in how music serves as a connective tissue between these communities, facilitating both cultural exchange and collective expression. 

What was your process like for researching and making this commission?  

I have so much background knowledge on this subject already so I dug that out but mostly this is personal and close to the heart so it’s been a lovely experience. I have an amazing team helping me bring the commission to life so I’m very grateful for that. 

My process is always about living and listening and loving! 

How has East London shaped and informed this commission?  

I live in east London so it’s really been the backdrop for the whole commission. There is culture, music and energy all around me here. Just walking down the high street is an incredible sensory experience that fills me up with endless joy, possibility and inspiration. 

How did your work with the V&A East Youth Collective inform or shape your commission?  

It was a great exercise to get my thoughts in order in a cohesive way for other people to understand. That’s not something I get the chance to do often and it was so helpful because it meant I had to slow the thoughts down for myself too. Having feedback normally comes at the end of the process so it was lovely to have other people involved making it feel like a collaborative process.  

How does this commission connect to your wider body of work, or where your work is heading? Did it help you to explore something new or push your practice in a different direction?  

I feel like I have answered this above. I think materially it’s a push in a different direction and that feels really exciting! 

What do you hope people will take away from encountering the work? Is there a particular way you hope people will engage with or spend time with the work? If someone were encountering your practice for the first time through this commission, what would you want them to take away? 

I hope people will find joy and nostalgia and familiarity. There’s no right or wrong way to encounter the work. But it’s definitely a work that becomes activated by an audience.  

What has been the most meaningful or challenging experience about making this work? 

It means the world to me to be trusted with a commission like this that is so close to my heart. When something means this much the challenge is do the best job possible for everyone and everything that’s inspired my practice. To do it all justice is the challenge… a very lucky challenge!