Blank pages?

I'm editing an article at the moment about writing and the public realm. This quote from writer/consultant/lead artist, Denna Jones, is one that I keep coming back to. Denna spent some of her childhood in the desert of Southern California; she says: ‘I’m very aware of the language used to erroneously describe the desert – bleak, empty, etc. – and I notice similar pejorative language used about areas designated for regeneration too. But, in reality, the desert is a hugely rich and complex place. I get very concerned about projects which assume places with problems are just blank pages.’

Online writing - Public Art?

I am taking part in In Digitalisation, a course run by Spread the Word looking at digital possibilities for writers. Last night Naomi Alderman talked to us about her online, and offline writing, which I found really inspiring. One thing that struck me, as she was talking about issues pertinent to online writing, was the number of similarities with the concerns of public art: people won’t read the work in a linear way; the visuals are really important – you need to find a designer/artist who can do visual justice to your words; the reader is immediate and present in a way that’s perhaps less evident with the written page. Perhaps online writing can be seen as another kind of public art, in a world where lots of us lead lives that constantly cross and recross the boundaries of online of offline, and new ‘virtual spaces’ are constantly being created.

Writers Shaping Places: Free discussion event - 30th June

UrbanWords has teamed up with Spread the Word, the writer Chris Meade, and Architects in Residence to host a free discussion event on Tuesday 30th June at Shortwave, the fantastic new community cinema, bar and production facility within the Bermondsey Square regeneration scheme.

How do writers work with architects, designers and planners to explore and interpret people’s relationship with and aspirations for a particular place?

Join writer Chris Meade, UrbanWords Director Sarah Butler and architect Kate Cheyne, at Shortwave, a new cinema, cafe bar and production facility within the Bermondsey Square regeneration scheme, for an evening of ideas, discussion and the opportunity to network.

This event will also launch a new web piece by Chris Meade, sharing his experiences working with artists/designers Snug and Outdoor, and the conversation will be continued online after the event.

This is an opportunity for writers who teach or run community projects to explore new ways of working and for regeneration professionals to see how writers can add value to their work.

Date: Tuesday 30^th June
Venue: Shortwave, 10 Bermondsey Square, London, SE1 3UN (http://www.shortwavefilms.co.uk)
Time: 6.30 – 8.00pm (followed by the opportunity to network)

For further information contact: sarah@urbanwords.org.uk. Places are free but limited, please call Spread the Word on 0207 735 3111 or visit www.spreadtheword.org.uk from 8th May to book

This event is supported by Arts Council England, Spread the Word, Architects in Residence and Shortwave

Location for creative text

This is an image from Lulu Quinn's work, which both makes me laugh, and I think asks an important question about what text in the environment does, or can do.

Permanent or Temporary?

I’ve spent the last few weeks developing proposals for an arts programme to complement a regeneration scheme (hence the blog silence!). It was an intense and very interesting piece of work which threw up some key issues for me about public art and the idea of permanence.
The area I was working in is a mix of marshland/nature reserve and industrial estate. The funding for an extensive scheme of infrastructure and public realm improvements comes from central government and from Europe, and is, very specifically, for capital spend; in other words, for ‘stuff’.
Yet working in this area, walking, talking, reading, and walking some more, it became evident that a lot of the reasons why the natural resources are underused are psychological and emotional as well as physical. In addition, thinking about physical art work in this context is difficult. The area’s ‘charm’ is in its emptiness, it view, its industrial nature; some of the area’s problems are to do with having too much clutter – too many signs, bollards, fences etc. Would putting ‘pieces’ of art there not just mean adding more clutter to a cluttered landscape?
For me, a programme of temporary interventions, temporary signage projects, and text pieces that would generate interest and intrigue, but would eventually disappear, make sense in this context. For me, creating a role for art to engage local residents and employees in rethinking their area, and developing new relationships with a place on their doorstep, through participatory projects that build relationships and lasting partnerships, has a stronger resonance and potential than a series of permanent art commissions.
And yet the funding that exists is for ‘things’, and so the only option if you insist on taking the ‘participatory, temporary approach’ is to look elsewhere for additional funds. The other tension here is whether you end up arguing ‘against art’; whether you end up saying it is better not to spend this funding on permanent pieces of art because it isn’t the right place for them. In doing so are you failing to fight the ‘art’ fight? Or are you trying to be genuine in your response to a specific place? Linda France said something interesting to me the other week: artists need to be humble, she said, and advised writers with public art commissions to “ask yourself would a tree be better here?” But isn’t that complicated when the artist has been commissioned by someone whose funding and agenda insists that there should be something there, even if a tree might be a preferable option?

City of Stories

I am working for the British Council in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia on a project called City of Stories. I will be back in the UK in early March, doubtless with tales to tell about writing, cities, orangutans and Laksa...

Poetry on Hoardings on Greenwich Peninsula

A poem created by myself and year 3 students at Millennium Primary School as part of Almost an Island? has been used as part of a commission by artist Faisal Abdu'Allah - the piece is called In The Same Place and consists of a temporary lightbox attached to the hoardings on John Harrison Way, opposite Greenwich Millennium Village.