In the summer of 1997, Molly Macindoe was taken to her first rave with a friend connected to the Crossbones sound system. Immediately hooked, she spent the next decade documenting the leading exponents of the free party scene and their network of friends as they travelled around scouring cities for derelict buildings to turn into spontaneous raves lasting for days. One rave in this Hackney building lasted for 13 weeks. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
The first illegal rave I attended with Macindoe and other school friends was New Year’s Eve 1997 in a gigantic disused meat factory overlooking the reservoir in Tottenham Hale. Meat hooks were still hanging from ceilings, conveyor belts and netting were still intact. Ten different sound systems in cavernous rooms the size of football pitches blasted out techno, jungle and gabber. Rain dripped from the leaky ceiling. Some corners of the venue were pitch black and floors were grimy and wet. Eventually, many days into the new year, the police closed it down. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Cars My Arse, a demonstration held by environmentalists around the time of Reclaim The Streets, was a protest against the massive proliferation of car travel in the UK. The presence of thousands of counter culture figures made it prime territory for an impromptu party. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Unlike the UK where the criminal justice bill was passed by John Major’s government in 1994, other European countries were slower to implement legislation banning communal gatherings. Dutchtek took place near the port town of Eemshaven. Here, a woman creates fire circles at night. Macindoe says “Going to a teknival and travelling together in a convoy with soundsystems was a rite-of-passage for a free party raver. Travelling together was the actual start of the crossover from friends you saw at parties to a real bonding experience, which was repeated every year in a kind of annual migration.” Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Ravers occupy an empty industrial office block in the heart of Kings Cross, north London. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
The infamous eyesore that occupied the island housing the GLC County Hall sat empty for years, menacing the local skyline. It was frequently squatted by activists and homeless people. “It was raved seven years earlier by old-school soundsystems like Spiral Tribe” Macindoe tells me. Before it was finally pulled down forever it became the scene of a tumultuous send off. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
The last party I attended was on the eve of the new Millennium. This is the only photo Macindoe took; the morning after an unruly yet truly celebratory night. A 20-storey derelict office block in the heart of Shoreditch featured soundsystems on virtually every floor. There was a crush to get in among the hundreds queuing outside. As ever there was no set entrance fee, just coins thrown into a bucket. Inside, the central stairwell was rammed all night with ravers constantly filing up and down the winding staircase. Through broken windows they watched the greatest fireworks display London has ever seen. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Dawn approaches in the rolling English countryside. The best of times and worst of times for a raver. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Sheltering under a Union Jack the Crossbones soundsystem surveys the carnage while some continue to dance into a new day. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
‘It’s fun to stay at the Y-M-C-A’ …Czech girls raving onstage at Czechtek. An unlicensed yet unofficially sanctioned annual event that usually passed off peacefully. “I never realised how mad the Czech people were when it comes to partying” says Macindoe. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
One year on and the mood at Czechtek had significantly darkened. “The government were under pressure and had lost patience, they were eager to clamp down on any perceived anti-social behaviour,” explained Macindoe. "So this year, instead of a peaceful, loved-up dance fest we basically got battles with an army of riot police.” Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Defiant partiers continue to dance under fire from police water cannon. “It was brutal,” claims Macindoe “people were badly injured, somebody was killed, there are still court cases happening from the violence. As a result of what happened, the government lost the general election. Everybody knew what had happened there and the public were outraged by the brutality of the police.” Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Free party organisers often take pet dogs with them. A few even take their young children. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
Macindoe: “I’ve never seen so much creative effort go into a party of such size. Even in that vast empty building I had to fight for artistic space to do slide projections. The midnight parade of stilt walkers, fire breathers and a mechanical dragon was breathtaking. And this wasn’t a commercial club with a huge entertainment budget, this was maximum effort done for minimal money in a free space by passionate people. Unforgettable.” Photograph: Molly Macindoe
A friend of Macindoe’s, Annie, looks through the window at the spectacle. Photograph: Molly Macindoe
The end of the party. Molly Macindoe floats away on an inflatable armchair on the lake. “It’s a Czechtek tradition, apparently”. Photograph: Courtesy of the photographer
