Fifty years after forming in Manchester, Joy Division has maintained a distinct sound, their pulsating bass lines, propulsive drums, high-fret guitar melodies, and baritone vocals continuing to reverberate throughout pop culture, post-punk music, and beyond. All the while, frontman Ian Curtis has lingered in his fans’ memories as a 23-year-old with piercingly melancholic eyes and a tucked-in button-down shirt.
“There’s a tragic story behind Ian Curtis, and that gets talked about a lot—but he was also just a young man who was funny, personable, and communicated with fans,” Mat Bancroft, curator of the British Pop Archive at the John Rylands Library—part of the University of Manchester—tells Vogue. Bancroft, of course, is referring to Curtis’s death by suicide in 1980, just days before the band’s first American tour, after a tumultuous battle with epilepsy amid the band’s meteoric rise to fame. But a new exhibition in New York, “Ian Curtis: Insight” at Voltz Clarke Gallery, is not about his untimely death; it centers instead on Curtis’s creative process, gathering handwritten lyrics, letters, archival photographs, and band-related ephemera—none of which have ever been exhibited stateside before. The show arrives just days after what would have been Curtis’s 70th birthday.
“Insight” begins with a handwritten letter to Joy Division’s manager, Rob Gretton, in which Curtis expresses his displeasure with Closer, the band’s critically acclaimed second album (“I decree that this LP is a disaster”), along with other general frustrations. Across the room is an earnest response to a letter from a fan named Helen Wilson. In it, Curtis not only apologizes for his delayed reply but also updates her on the tracks the band was recording at the time and hints at new songs they would soon perform live.
But the true through line in the curation comes from pages of Curtis’s handwritten lyrics for Unknown Pleasures and Closer—displayed in tracklist order—his block lettering painstakingly precise. “We’ve got so much material in the archive where we don’t know exactly what they’re connected to—are they unpublished songs, poems, or ideas? Are they stories, or is he just making notes?” says Bancroft. “So what we’ve tried to select in this exhibition are works where we definitely know it’s the lyric or a working lyric.”
