Our Freedom: Then and Now explores what freedom means to Brits, 80 years after the second world war

Marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war, Our Freedom: Then and Now is a nationwide photography project exploring how communities understand freedom.

The show opened at London’s Southbank Centre in April and is now touring the UK. This exhibition offers an alternative perspective to the idea that this is currently a nation divided. From the Highlands of Scotland to libraries in southwest England, it asks a simple yet powerful question: what did freedom mean in 1945, and what does it mean now?

The Socially Engaged Photography Network sent 22 photographers to work closely with community projects, ensuring the photographs were created in collaboration with participants. This approach is distinct from traditional photojournalism, which often speaks about rather than with the people photographed.

By spending time in places such as Maesteg Town Hall and libraries in Stornoway, artists including Johannah Churchill, Sam Ivin and Leticia Valverdes have focused on making photographs that portray the viewpoints of the people involved.

Projects marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war can easily lapse into cliche, but Our Freedom: Then and Now avoids sentimentality. In fact, part of its power lies in engaging with the complexities of contemporary society and culture. It avoids simple slogans and instead the photographs foreground thoughtful reflections on conflict and the ongoing importance of finding common ground and sustaining connection.

As Stephanie Peacock, the UK’s minister for sport, tourism, civil society and youth, said at the launch, the project comes at an important time. With fewer people having direct memories of the war, sharing their reminiscences alongside the voices of schoolchildren and young artists creates a conversation between those who remember 1945 and those who will shape 2045.

This exchange fosters two forms of understanding: participants learn about themselves, and viewers learn about others. According to Simon Mellor, Arts Council England’s deputy chief-executive, these works bring local experiences into national conversations, offering a valuable space for dialogue in difficult times.

This was certainly my experience. I left the gallery surprised by the many ways freedom is experienced and understood across the UK. Whether it’s a veteran in Wolverhampton or a student in Hartlepool, the cumulative effect of individuals’ thoughts about freedom and community was fascinating and thought-provoking.

The exhibition is grounded by poet laureate Simon Armitage’s specially commissioned poem, Freedom Road. Echoing the participant photographs, the poem shifts its focus from grand images of liberation to the simple, everyday actions that make up real freedom. He writes:

You can’t dig up freedom like a potato

from the verges of Freedom Way, or pan it

from Freedom Beck like inklings of gold;

it won’t be delivered to Freedom Avenue

gift-wrapped in silver string.

Armitage suggests that freedom is most real when it goes unnoticed, such as the ability to disagree with a neighbour, walk where we want, and live as we choose. This idea aligns with the exhibition’s main goal: to show that freedom is something we live every day – not just a piece of history to remember now and then, but something current and vital.

The exhibition on tour

The exhibition’s tour is as ambitious as the work itself. After starting at the Southbank Centre, it travels to places like Eden Court in Inverness, the McKechnie Institute in South Ayrshire and the Strand Arts Centre in Belfast, bringing the art back to the communities that helped create it.

This return is important because it shows that art doesn’t just happen in big cities; it grows from local libraries and community centres and derives its power from these regional identities. In 2025, more than 530,000 people took part in the events and performances leading up to this exhibition.

By steering clear of easy sentimentality, Our Freedom: Then and Now does something more meaningful. It offers an honest look at how we live together. The exhibition recognises the difficult parts of our shared histories while reminding us of our shared humanity.

In a nation that can feel divided, Our Freedom: Then and Now uses photography to highlight what people have in common and where we might work harder to find those commonalities. It’s a reminder that, even though freedom requires work, it is not only worth it but necessary.

Mark Rawlinson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.