When I heard The Oxford Tavern was closing it was alarming to think it might just vanish. Love it of hate it, the bar was something you could point to in the area, our most famous landmark, a blackened place you could create your own mythology around. My motivation was simple: I wanted to be there in its final moments and record as much as I could. Permission was granted with only two days until its doors closed. The first night was 17 performances from showgirls, a stripper reunion, decades of history, a thousand people I could not possible know. Faces at every corner that seemed like they could only ever inhabit this place. On the second day just the most faithful staff and regulars gathered around the small amount of beer that had not bee drunk the night before. The pictures are not an attempt to say anything definitive about a complex industry. They are 48 hours before something singular disappeared, grabbing moments where I could, meeting people as a collective before they dispersed. It’s a guestbook for those who frequented and a way of saying thank you - I had the most beautiful time. For those who never went I hope these images are a window into a windowless place and a reminder to get to know the things in your neighbourhood that don’t exist anywhere else.