‘Savoir Vivre NIGHT by NIGHT’
Nightlife laid bare. 1996 –
SLEAZENATION X JASON MANNING

Exhibition Dates
21st March 2025

Tuesday – Friday
1 – 6pm

CLOSED
Thursday  27th March

Saturday
2 – 8pm

CLOSED
Sunday
Monday

Please check insta for any changes

Launched in 1996 the free club listings magazine SLEAZENATION set a new tone for 90’s club culture and London night culture, a new language in its honesty, visually and in it’s writing, specifically the club listings section…Savoir Vivre.
SAVOIR VIVRE^* or where to get…

 

Savoir Vivre in SleazeNation: A Cultural Imprint in the Club Listing Section

In the hedonistic world of late-night revelry, where neon lights flickered against the walls of packed, smoke-filled rooms, Savoir Vivre, the infamous club listing section in SleazeNation magazine, stood as a beacon of the underground culture. The tone and style of this feature not only reflected the pulse of the club scene, but it also subtly, yet decisively, influenced the broader cultural currents that swirled around the late ’90s and early ’00s.

This wasn’t just a directory of venues, but a meticulously curated diary of late-night escapism, told through the lens of SleazeNation’s editors, whose love for subversion and non-conformity ran deep. The club listings, nestled within the pages of the magazine like a patchwork of secrets, weren’t merely geographical markers. They were cryptic hints that invited readers into a world of disillusioned youth, avant-garde hedonism, and a playground where rules were bent, not broken, and all of it was captured through the meticulously crafted imagery of Jason Manning.

The Language of Savoir Vivre

The very name Savoir Vivre, which translates roughly to “the knowledge of living,” offered a slightly sardonic wink to the disaffected masses that were the magazine’s target audience. The club listings section was anything but the dry, functional approach one might expect from similar features in other publications. In stark contrast to the business-like approach of Time Out or Mixmag, SleazeNation infused its descriptions with the same irreverence and wit that defined the magazine’s larger ethos.

Describing a venue wasn’t about simply listing the address or the types of music played. Instead, it was a celebration of the vibe, the atmosphere, the strange, transient quality of a night out that often defied conventional expectation. Phrases like “a cathedral of excess,” or “the last refuge for the disillusioned,” became signatures of the magazine’s own voice—intelligent, but with a winking sense of mockery. This style wasn’t just editorial, it was an invitation to experience the club scene through the prism of intellectual hedonism.

The list of clubs, often arranged as a collection of names rather than in the clean, utilitarian format of a typical guide, became a cultural text in itself. Each entry was a breadcrumb leading you to something more than just a place to drink or dance. It suggested a narrative, a new adventure into the heart of the city’s chaotic, transient spirit. Each club was a momentary escape, a microcosm of the larger world outside, where the only constant was change, and the only rules were the ones you broke.

Lens on the Scene – Jason Manning, Chris Beardmore, Ewen Spencer, Ralph Blair, Frederick Clement, Darren Regnier

Where the written word seduced the reader into the scene, the photographs of these photographers translated that invitation into a visceral, sometimes disorienting reality. Their lens captured not just the faces and fashion of the scene, but the very essence of club culture itself—the dislocated joy, the messy beauty, the grime, and the gloss of the underground. There was a certain rawness in their photography that matched the gritty, unrefined tone of SleazeNation.

Their work was neither glossy nor polished—much like the world it depicted—but had a stark, sometimes voyeuristic quality that drew viewers into the depths of the moment. The photographs didn’t sanitize the chaos of the club world, instead embracing it with unflinching honesty. Whether it was a close-up of a sweat-drenched dancer or a wide shot of a room in complete disarray, the images encapsulated a fleeting, yet undeniably magnetic part of club culture.

It was in the contrast between their photography and the  irreverence of the writing that a new aesthetic was forged—one that blurred the boundaries between art and nightlife, rebellion and spectacle. Manning’s gritty portrayal of youth in motion became an extension of the magazine’s ethos, capturing the heart of a fleeting moment that wasn’t just about nightlife—it was about cultural defiance, self-expression, and finding beauty in the messiness of life itself.

Savoir Vivre: The Legacy

The Savoir Vivre section in SleazeNation wasn’t just a collection of listings—it was a cultural artifact that captured the essence of a time when clubbing was as much about community as it was about chaos, as much about rebellion as it was about release. The tone of voice, irreverent yet intellectual, was a reflection of a generation’s desire to break from the mainstream and embrace a culture built on excess, exploration, and experimentation. The photographs of Jason Manning added a necessary counterpoint to this world—rendering it in all its gritty, vibrant glory.

Together, SleazeNation’s club listings and Manning’s photography became more than just a feature—they were a window into the soul of a generation. And in retrospect, as we look back at those photos, those words, those nights, they feel more than just the fleeting record of a counterculture—they are the visual and textual artifacts of a cultural movement that defined an era.

 

^{*familiarity with the customs of good society; breeding}