Beyond the Gallery Walls: How V&A East’s ‘upperground’ is Redefining the Museum Experience

On a quiet Thursday afternoon, the vast, light-filled spaces of V&A East were undergoing a transformation. While setting up for the latest installment of the museum’s new DJ residency, upperground, an unexpected encounter perfectly encapsulated the project’s mission. I ran into a university friend who had popped in to visit the "Why We Make" galleries. She hadn’t planned on an extended stay, but the prospect of the evening’s upperground set—an experimental, vibrant dive into new music—was enough to convince her to return. That serendipitous meeting served as a powerful reminder: young people across London are not only eager to engage with V&A East, but they are also hungry for spaces that move beyond the static, traditional museum format. By bridging the gap between daytime gallery visits and evening social connection, upperground is proving that museums can function as dynamic hubs for community and creative discovery.

Launched this August, the upperground series was designed as a direct, resonant dialogue with the museum’s major exhibition, The Music is Black: A British Story. Every Thursday, the museum invites a different DJ, selector, or music practitioner to take control of the upper ground floor. The goal is simple yet ambitious: to activate the space with a set that reflects the artist’s own unique musical language. By integrating club culture and live performance into the museum’s infrastructure, the residency challenges the traditional boundaries of a gallery space. It asks fundamental questions about what happens when institutional silence meets the pulsating energy of live music, and what becomes possible—or, indeed, complicated—when these two worlds collide.

The physical architecture of the museum plays a pivotal role in the success of this union. With floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, the upper ground floor provides a panoramic, modern backdrop that feels miles away from the stuffy, hushed atmosphere of a conventional exhibition space. Once the room is filled with music and a dancing crowd, the space is entirely reimagined. The act of inviting the public into this environment encourages a dual connection: they are not only engaging with the music as a powerful representation of Black diasporic creative production, but they are also connecting with one another, fostering a sense of community that is often missing from the isolated experience of viewing art.

The creative freedom granted to each artist is a cornerstone of the upperground philosophy. Rather than imposing a rigid format, the museum provides a platform for the performers to dictate their own environment. This includes total control over lighting, staging, and even the inclusion of peripheral activations that complement their musical sets. A striking example occurred on the 13th of August, when the Black, queer DJ collective Polyjammeorus took over the space. They did not simply provide a soundtrack; they organized a zine-making workshop that invited attendees to discuss the broader significance of Black British music. This intellectual engagement, paired with a diverse, high-energy set that spanned genres from Afro tech and dancehall to amapiano, garage, and house, turned the evening into a holistic cultural experience. In this way, upperground artists are not merely performing; they are promoting the creative expression of the attendees themselves, bridging the gap between passive listening and active participation.

The series is, at its heart, a profound inquiry into how museums can become more porous, open, and inviting to younger generations, with a specific focus on welcoming the Black, queer youth of the surrounding East London area. By showcasing Black talent from across the London music scene and offering these events free of charge, the museum has successfully drawn together a wide array of demographics. These attendees find themselves unified not by the requirement of a ticket, but by a shared appreciation for music, movement, and the chance to engage with like-minded peers in an unconventional setting.

My own role as an intern at V&A East this summer, assisting in the coordination of upperground, has provided a unique vantage point on the mechanics of institutional change. The experience has been an education in what representation actually looks like when applied in a practical, day-to-day setting. It has highlighted the importance of championing untold and underacknowledged stories in ways that are not only academically interesting but also accessible and meaningful across different generations. As a young Black woman from this community, I have a deep, personal understanding of the weight of artistic representation. Being a facilitator for that representation—helping to create a space where others can see their histories and cultures reflected—has been a deeply rewarding experience. It has prompted me to look at the local cultural landscape with fresh eyes, leaving me wondering what could be achieved if more institutions adopted this model of openness and community-led programming.

As a pilot series, upperground is an experiment in testing the limits of the museum. The artists invited to host the space move through a vast, diverse array of musical histories, diasporas, and subcultures, effectively testing the appetite of the public for this kind of engagement. Can a single museum space hold that kind of range while still respecting and maintaining the individuality of each unique sound? This is the core question the residency seeks to answer. It forces the institution to look inward and decode its own identity: who is this space actually for? What happens when you invite "outsiders"—the DJs, the collectives, the creators—to lead the public programming?

Ultimately, the impact of upperground is best understood in tandem with the The Music is Black exhibition. While the exhibition provides the historical narrative, documenting the vast, complex, and vital contributions of Black people to the global music scene, upperground provides the living, breathing continuation of that story. It creates a stage for those histories to evolve and bleed into their own futures. By welcoming these voices into the museum, V&A East is not just hosting a series of parties; it is participating in a necessary evolution of the museum’s role in society. It is a bold experiment in ensuring that the stories of the past are not kept behind glass, but are allowed to resonate in the present, shaping the culture of tomorrow. As the residency continues, the hope is that these evenings remain a beacon for those who see the museum not as a place of quiet observation, but as a space for conversation, celebration, and ongoing creative growth.