Everyone’s at It (collaboration/participation/socially-engaged practice) so my Summer plan is engaging, exploring, experiencing and expressing – in London. I know it’s something to do with power relationships (to simplify, just for now) so I’ll go along to shows/events thinking about: access, hierarchy, equality and exchange. Starting an MA in Gallery Education at Institute of Education in October, I’ll log my journey as I encounter these terms in live contexts.
‘Dialogic art practice’
Came across this term in ‘Conversation Pieces’ (Grant H. Kester, 2004) and very excited about how it’s re-framing my world and thinking about what art is, and can be. It’s a brilliantly heavy read – well-researched, without being dry or coldly academic.
My early work at art school was quietly political. Relational aesthetics sounded great – but became an unachievable ideal to sit around reading/talking about – rather than relating meaningfully to the ‘outside’ world. So two years later, and with some real experience of the ‘outside’ I’m ready to reflect and re-engage with theory to perhaps make sense of my own experience and re-look at my values as an artist in the world as it is now. I’m keen to look at the work I do with people – as an adult Learning Support Assistant at City Lit, and Workshop Leader at Westminster Mind – and questioning how this sits with my own sense of an art practice. And questioning what defining myself as an artist means? Do I need this label or is it sometimes a barrier? Thinking around the term ‘dialogic art practice’ is helping me to explore this.
Dialogic practices in art are unashamedly complex and connect to the socio-political world beyond the gallery walls, in contrast to the immediate/shock short-term approach of the avant-garde. Projects unfold through a process of performative interaction or intervention. Through this cumulative process of dialogue and exchange, stereotypes are challenged to generate new perceptions. The emphasis is on interaction rather than a product/object, so meaningful conversation/listening over a significant period of time is essential; connecting historically/socially and understanding our sense of self and others. In this role, Kester describes the artist as being in a state of ‘vulnerable receptivity’ (really love this description) and talks about intimacy of all participants involved. This takes my four words (access, hierarchy, equality and exchange) to a completely new universe of understanding!
Kicking this phrase around for a while, distinguishing what is and what isn’t a dialogic practice might help. Artists mentioned on this blog who have a dialogic approach include Stephen Willats, Suzanne Lacy and those showing at Peckham Space (Sonia Boyce, Barbe Asante, Gayle Chong Kwan). Whereas Rachel Whiteread’s ‘House’ (1993) approach was classically avant-garde; based on shock, disruption and ambiguity. The pouring technique, used to create the caste of the interior space of this Edwardian terrace house, had been used in earlier works to explore the significance of domestic and interior space. So she was taking a studio-based technique out into the world. It was not location-specific (Whiteread had considered houses in North and East London and Islington before the Bow site became available) and the work didn’t involve community consultation as part of the process.
Essentially, the starting point for a dialogic artwork is dialogue, as opposed to a pre-planned idea hatched out in the quiet of the studio. The particular idea, object, image or experience then emerges from this situated dialogue [Continued… in next post]
[…continuation – see previous post] But I think showing this work in a gallery space can be problematic: articulating the communicative aspects (the most important bit for the artist) to an audience is not straightforward, and requires time and commitment from the viewer. At a public talk at The London Open at Whitechapel, I asked Patricia Vickers (Editor, Art Monthly), one of the selectors, why there was no ‘dialogical’ work in a show that claimed to be about contemporary art practice. She said looking at 1800 submissions meant that this sort of work wasn’t likely to be selected. So how do public galleries show dialogic work?
I think my experience at the Suzanne Lacy show at Tate Tanks was successful in attempting to get across this sense of dialogue. The circular room felt womb-like and the central comfy seating encouraged close proximity, a sense of relaxation, intimacy and listening. I did feel primed though: the ever-busy feedback board at the entrance suggested an openness to evolving dialogue, and the Tino Segal piece in The Turbine Hall had an overpowering sense of flow and connectivity: I felt happy to surrender to the wave and somehow trusted the space would hold me. Although I was a bit peeved when the assistant asked me to stop, while I was making graphite rubbings on newsprint (wonderful enigmatic raised font, text and numbers, chunky iron bolts), saying the noise (I didn’t realise it was noisy) might disturb others. On reflection, I think this was a fair comment – and was in-tune with the sense of creating a shared space, respectful of others. By contrast, the show at SLG upstairs in May, Febrik (Play, I Follow You) came across as a show about accountability (aimed at funders etc?), a show and tell ‘presentation’ of ‘what we did’ that might suit a conference; rather than an art gallery.
Whatsmore, because dialogic projects are not reducible to the visual they can be difficult to critique, and reviewers often fail to recognise the value of the communicative aspects of the work. Or can oversimplify the stated intentions and then simply calculate the efficiency, neglecting the art bit.
Kester goes on to present a new discursive framework – to share insights, observations and reactions. So lots to think about.
I think my ‘summer of love’ is most definitely over now. Thankyou for taking the time to read this.
Critical Friends: Public ‘survey’ at Peckham Space (PS) and square (Sunday 26 August)
Aim: to find out what people really think about PS and art; what they think the role of an art space in Peckham should be; publicise PS current/future programme.
How: using a framework of four pre-agreed questions, we paired-up and strategically positioned ourselves to catch all passers-by on the square – recording with an I-phone, Dictaphone, notes on paper, post-its. The same four questions were also presented on A3 sheets on the inside and outside wall of PS – along with a good supply of post-its and pens for people to add their responses.
What happened: it was so interesting to hear people’s views! So many people had strong opinions about what they wanted in their community: family events, a space for teenagers to hang out, activities to connect people in the community, art for people of all ages and abilities etc. So many people had never been inside the building, despite walking past it regularly: a valuable piece of information for PS to work with. Inviting people to go inside and maybe contribute to the Peace Blanket, or have a cup of tea, became a meaningful way to end the chats. And I’d like to think that all the people we spoke to now have a (positive) relationship with the space; it’s now a reality in their personal experience and something that has currency for future encounters or when they next hear something about PS. All the encounters were positive! Everyone was friendly – even people who were busy and couldn’t stop. Maybe it’s something to do with the generous gift of listening. Hopefully we’ll be able to use this information meaningfully, and act in response to comments, and create more opportunities for dialogue.
I was curious to see how this event compared with similar public interviews I helped with at InIVA in East London, as part of the Social Archive (see blog entry # 3 [9 July 2012]) a three-year project. I held this romantic view (now proved to be wrong – thankfully) that people in East London had more to say and were more informed. Maybe the negative media coverage about Peckham is hard to shift, unless made conscious and openly addressed and counterbalanced by real-time positive experiences.
It was surprisingly easy to do – and so enjoyable to connect. I see this as one of the benefits of working as part of a collective. I think I’d get too serious and bogged-down in planning detail and ‘what if’ scenarios if I was doing this alone. Also, the freedom of working with a smaller gallery, rather than a big institution, allows for spontaneity and the individual approach. Although I was very impressed by the ‘feedback boards’ at the entrance to Tate Tanks: they were crammed full every day with comments and an open-faced gallery assistant armed with a clipboard was chatting to passers-by (or was she censoring the comments?).
Peckham Peace Festival 19/8/12 www.peckhamspace.com
Peckham Peace Month (8 August – 2 September)
Sunshine Ska and sewing. Riding on that post-Olympic energy, this chilled-out Sunday afternoon at Peckham Square was a blissful space to hang-out on the hottest day of the year. It felt like being at a major music festival; with music, food, mellow ambience, stalls and tactile activities to keep your hands happy. But the party was on a human-scale and I was surrounded by my local community, people I recognise and will see again. Through simple activities I was happy chatting to everybody and anybody.
Activities included ‘sewing’ a message onto a felt square, as a contribution to the growing Peckham Peace Blanket by Mhairi Macaulay, a student at Camberwell College of Arts. The absorbing and connecting activity of sewing collectively included all ages; men and women equally (helping each other to thread needles, inspire etc). Sitting together cocooned in the ebb and flow of chatting/silence/joyful music, my mind idled in happy memories of fuzzy felt, school sewing and my mother’s ever-busy hands. The final blanket will include contributions from over 1000 people. Thinking about my three participation words (access, hierarchy and exchange), this event gets top marks!
The blanket was inspired by the Peckham Peace Wall by Garudio Studiage – a response to the summer riots of 2011. The Wall features 4000 original post-it messages that were displayed on boards covering broken windows in the area. The original project was started by four members of the Peckham Shed Theatre Company, who felt motivated to do something; to get out onto the streets of Peckham and unite the community in positive, peaceful action. Armed with felt-tip pens and post-it notes, they spent the day encouraging locals to think of positive things about Peckham by creating the ‘Why we love Peckham wall.’ The first board covered a window outside Poundland on Rye lane, and the Wall eventually grew to fill seven hoardings.
Reading the post-it notes is a heartwarming experience; the individual handwriting, complete with spelling errors and slang portrays the individual voices, with a collective strength and vision to make meaningful change. My favourite post-it was:
‘Peckham is a love place. Don’t mash it up’.
Feels like the Peckham Phoenix is rising from the ashes.