Martin Parr's "No Smoking" Exhibition

By Eddie Kämpgen 

Today, I visited the No Smoking exhibition by Martin Parr at Rocket Gallery in London, and it left me with a lot to think about. As I walked through the gallery, I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we’ve come—or perhaps, how much we’ve lost—in terms of personal freedom.  

The exhibition, which runs from December 11, 2024, to May 31, 2025, is Parr’s 13th solo show at Rocket Gallery and features photographs spanning five decades (1970-2019), documenting the evolution of smoking culture. It’s a stark reminder of a time when smoking was not just tolerated but celebrated, often in places we now find shocking—like airplanes, hospitals, or even while holding babies.  

The theme of the exhibition feels especially relevant today, with the UK government’s recent proposal to ban tobacco sales to anyone born after 2009. Parr’s images, many of which are intentionally provocative, show a world where smoking was a social norm, almost a rite of passage. It’s hard to imagine now, but back then, people didn’t seem to grasp the health risks—or maybe they just didn’t care. These photos are meant to shock, and they do. They make you question how society could have been so oblivious.  

But here’s where it gets tricky for me. While I understand the need for some regulations—second-hand smoke is a real issue, after all—I can’t help but feel that we’re slipping into overreach. People should have the right to choose their own lifestyle, even if it’s not the healthiest one.  

Smoking on an airplane? Sure, that’s gone too far. But banning an entire generation from buying tobacco? That’s a slippery slope. If we keep going this way, what’s next? The world’s attitude toward substances seems to swing like a pendulum, from acceptance to outright hatred, and I’m not sure where it will stop.  

Parr’s exhibition isn’t just about smoking; it’s about societal norms and how they shift over time. The images are a commentary on our changing relationship with risk, health, and personal freedom. It’s a delicate balance, and Parr captures it brilliantly.  

The exhibition itself is beautifully curated, with 73 photographs spread across the gallery, some in colour, others in black and white. There’s also a companion photobook, No Smoking, which sold out its first printing in just a week after its release at Paris Photo in November 2024. 

The gallery is open to the public on Saturdays from 2-6 pm, and by appointment on other days, which is a bit inconvenient but understandable for a small space like Rocket Gallery.  

Leaving the gallery, I felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, I appreciate the historical perspective Parr provides—it’s important to see where we’ve been to understand where we’re going. On the other hand, I worry about the future. If we keep banning things based on health risks, where does it end? Will we one day look back on Alcohol the way we now look at smoking? It’s a thought that remains.  

This exhibition is a must-see for anyone interested in photography, social history, or the ongoing debate about personal freedom versus public health. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s uncomfortably relevant.