Where next?

I have been on a trail setting out my stall.  It is definitely not the favourite part of my practice.  It would be easier if I just made a particular object, like a painting, and set them out for sale. It is so involved talking to different venues, writing proposals, putting together evidence, researching etc,exploring possibilities, when it is so difficult to explain what my practice is about and the process of working ORGANICALLY. However, discussions with Swindon Central Library together with my portrait looking out at me from the Swindon Literary Festival programme started to focus my mind.  Then a peek at the new exhibition room Richard Jefferies, a visit to Lacock Abbey, where the visitor experience manager kindly took me on a tour of the place, looking for ideas of how to respond to Lacock/story and find appropriate setting.  Then to Swindon College to follow up an idea of wondering if I, as an alumni, could organise a pop-up exhibition alongside their B A Degree Show. Hmm, there is a lot to think about, I don't want to appear as an odd on.

"Have you been making work?", said friend Curator, Karen, as we sat in John Lewis I mutter about my aching shoulders and we talk about blogs, clean cavasses, and stir pots of tea. I reply yes taking out from my bag my made-by-Nancy Chinese Sewing Book, in which I am popping out of the garden inspired folds. Discussions turns to what next? 

My Desk Thursday 10.00 am

I have been wondering how to respond to next setting and event, which will be a residency at Swindon Library 6-8th May, with installation up until 18th to link in with Swindon Lit Fest.  The notion of words/writing/speaking stories inspired me to re-find the warmth of friend and poet Hilda, her literary circle and time at Writers Kitchen at Lower Shaw Farm.  This meeting different people is interesting, we all inhabit different worlds. What will you be doing at the library, asks this rather nice lady called Eve.  Painting? I sigh, if only it were that easy. I think of emails I have been exchanging Sara, who has been brilliant at helping me research the Sibyls.  She has ordered me two books from the British Library, rich with verse, stuffed full of apparently:

Oracular Utterances 

We have been exploring the idea of collecting words, marking the element of time. I write to say thanks for email exchanges, they are so supportive and I tell her I shall be researching too, other women, who were keepers of the books. I tell her of the doll inspired by  Ela, Countess of Salsibury, once upon a time, Abbess of the Augustine Order who were keepers of the books.  Meanwhile, I find another couple of words here and there.

Miracle Child

The evaluation process

I am wondering why I thought I could manage to take my work, ideas, project on a journey. How mad was that?  I really miss being part of a team, which time at the RWA allowed me to remember how valuable that feels.  Working as a sole trader, free-lance artist, means you have to be everything the full colour palette, warm and cool, sensible and brave, calm and focused, very patient and yet self-motivated. I am thinking you have to be your own Mr Motivator, plus have the patience of a saint to stitch together events. After being in a very formal academy/art setting, I am feeling I need a lot of pins, tape and stitches to hold it all together.  It is taking soooo much time, time I never could have accounted for...What I notice is though how when I reach a point of electronic / organisational funk, I go make work, it makes me well. I can reflect on process and produce creatively.

Remember to take care of yourself, she said

I am considering the follow questions:

1. Observations of the whole process.
2. Why did I do it?
3. How did I action the idea?
4. What, who, where and when was involved?
5. How did the interaction with the public work?
6. How could I have done things differently?
7. What has been the feedback?
8. All in all...
9. Moving forward...

"Where are we going"...Sound Installation

Over the three week research trip to Italy I decided to keep an audio diary on my iPhone 4s.  I wanted to explore the space between sounds, conversations and silence.  Each morning on waking I would enter the day through observing my thoughts, how I felt and the sounds surrounding the space.  I would observe and record my thoughts,  document plans for the day, and out and about record ambient sounds and distinctive points in the journey.  The women talking in the town square at Tressimino, the entering of a church or chapel, the murmurings of my travel companion and the Italian friend Cristina who we met in a very rural setting high in Le Marche Region.  The shopkeeper in the fabric shop and the beautiful lady in the hardware shop where I bought a hearth brush to make into a travel doll.  Each night I would again document my observations, of work made along the way, discoveries, impressions and how I was feeling as part of the travel log.

On return I collaborated with Gurchetan Singh, a Swindon based filmmaker, who I worked with previously on commissions projects, Portrait of Swindon, and also House of Absences (Travellers without Baggage).  We were both interested in sacred spaces, rituals, offerings and meditative practice, and enjoyed exploring the way that sound can bring a story together.  I edited down the three week archive and Gurch 'weaved' the soundscape.  I put together with images of environs in Italy and exhibited at the RWA exhibition, to stimulate curiosity and highlight a sense of calm journeying.

Diaroma

I documented my journey in Italy, performatively responding to different environs and using new technology, an iPhone 4S set in panoramic mode.  The series caused me much thought about how to present to allow the viewer to experience the feeling of the panorama. A design for a purpose made acrylic viewing holders, which, together with a large scale print, allowed me to create storytelling environs, to which other collections could be added, journals, bundles, books, dolls.I wanted to invite human scale interaction. I wrestled for hours at home over a shirt box to design a diorama, and that people could create their own story scenes, inspired by a collection of found objects, and then document with their own mobile phone photograph through the front opening aperture. Each day, looking inside to see the trace of people's response to the museum of possibilities, was a treat. Julie had resourced the collection with sensitivity, humour and great perception.  Each tiny world was like looking inside individual's personality. All this process was made possible through funding, but I was discovering having public money to support one's practice was very exciting and the have-I-got -the-receipt-for-that-small-plastic giraffe, a rather interesting, but worrying process, all in the same breath!

I loved the tiniest artist arriving in her stripy leggings with her Mum and friend saying she was 4.1/2, was an illustrator who wanted to be an artist and she loved my gallaree.  She played in the diorama, making an interesting picnic scene, choosing the backdrop of myself in the panoramic photo portrayed in front of the Wee Casa in Italy.  She carefully adds things to the scene and then drew a picture and posed in front of the golden frame for a photo. What was in your diorama scene, a fairy having a picnic, what is she eating, was asked, dead animals, was the reply.

Storytelling shoes, budgie, leg and watch face.

Where next - the Library?

The corridor to nowhere, with mint green walls and security barriers, apparently was no longer on offer for Curious Narratives. Instead, in the whirl to make the Swindon Festival of Literature programme copy deadline, I am offered at the award winning building, an intimate curvy corner, inside the main building, at the back, near the children's section of the central town library. I am told this is the ideal space, but there is nowhere to hang anything from a wall, not a shelf or a presentation case, but there is a table but there would be a charge.  Argh, I cry, and share that when submitting my Arts Council Grants for the Arts bid they wrote promptly back during the submission process to say that they didn't like the sound of SCL saying there would be a charge for a 'venue', "it did not demonstrate the spirit of partnership."  Stirring the spoon slowly through the offering of tea, it was agreed, hard times for everyone, but we must be realistic and make things pay! I reflect on the eight day only stay residency/exhibition at the Royal Academy, Bristol, and how much Julie and I creatively packed into a short period of time, how many visitors we engaged with...  I draw breath, and start to talk about how interesting library environments are, such warm and welcoming spaces.  Suddenly, a childhood memory surfaces of my Dad mid-flow in a row with the Head Librarian at Penhill Library, heatedly discussing my once upon a time favourite author, Enid Blyton.  He raged about her rubbish grammar, whilst I sobbed with embarrassment into the bean bag behind the shelf.   

Journal Page, Italy Series 2013

I wonder how I am going to set out my stories and why did I choose to bring my work to the SCL.  It must be the love of book arts. I ask, is there a cupboard, a table, a trolley, some out of date books I could use?  Hmm, was the reply, how many books would you want?  I find myself imagining playing with stacks and stacks, creating environs out of them.  There is a worried look facing me, I'm not quite sure exactly what you are going to be doing? Neither, am I, was the reply, realising that this would be quite a stretch of difference from inhabiting a high end art academy.  I look around and spy a tiny cupboard inset in the wall by the floor, any chance I could use that, I ask, thinking The Borrowers, another favourite read.  Whilst the search for the key was fruitful, the glow from within the cupboard suggested it was all about wiring and not about installing a fairytale scene.  Hmm, I am not sure how to proceed.  Aha, I cry, I see there is access to an electrical plug in the floor, there is hope I think about possibilities, perhaps bringing my sewing machine or something with a plug.  OK, I reflect, I must keep it simple.  The staff here have no idea how I work.  There is talk about changes in the library, I realise I can't just whoosh in and assume anything, the best way is to collaborate.

Suddenly at the information counter I notice a lovely young librarian who had months ago helped me research in the reference section the mythological storytellers, The Sibyls.  We take a moment to share thoughts, to discuss how people use the library. We wonder if anyone notices the books, with faces in front of glowing lights of rows of computers. What do you think about it all, I ask, skimming through photographs of my exhibition works from the RWA on my iPad?  Later, she kindly writes an email to me from her home, saying how nice it was to see my work which she describes as EXTRAORDINARY.  What a great word I think, musing on its sound, shape and meaning.  Later that day I receive a medical letter saying symptoms were UNREMARKABLE.  Hmm, I thought, that is a boring word, how could anyone think anything about me was UNREMARKABLE.  I seriously start to think I am going to start collecting words.

A collection of words

Looking this way and that, the warm quiet contemplative room, with lights dimmed and voices murmuring, saints in niches,  unspoken words inviting visitors to take a risk; cloth book with resting  scissors, the shrine of Sibyls, calm and ready to share their stories, fragments of poetry, a tiny crown of women, the theatre corner, a museum cabinet table a home for journal, cat, brush and family; the heartfelt made unique storytelling shoes, diorama with its tiny museum of possibilities,curious objects including newly acquired plastic grass with daisy flowers.I love your collections had said the young mother, as her child carefully wished the storytelling shoes bigger, placing inside her imaginary world, adding a budgie, a broken arm with a once upon a time watch face... a bit macabre, though, she added, her child nodding, putting aside the rather odd Italian boy's head. 

Think of the hours of conversations, said Julie

It was great meeting so many people from from all sorts of backgrounds.  The creative conversations were interesting and hard to document, it could be a book in itself. The day before there was the young sweaty bloke who looked like he might have ridden a bike arrived and stayed for two hours with his head in the I wished I had charged 50p a go, diorama, arranging, re-arranging the interiors and writing stories.  Later another visitor said she stayed at the Youth Hostel and met this guy who black curly hair who couldn't stop writing, he said he had been inspired to write stories about interiors.  

The interior of the visitor book became burstingfly full with drawings and comments, with visitors apparently feeling comfortable in the space:

"I liked the artist working at the table, playing in the space, it made the art gallery environment human and alive...high end, contemporary art, made accessible...I felt strangely comfortable, not my usual experience in a gallery...your work is unique, original, individual...its a bit spooky in here, but I am going to tweet it...could you come and give a talk, what about a workshop, I can see I need to loosen up, would you run a textile workshop, how about a talk on the radio...Fabulous! Can I buy your saint baby and have a hug?

"Thanks for letting me play 
with the shadow side of my personality ."

It was commented, in such a female rich environment, a lot of visitors enjoying the work happened to be men, staying in the space, sometimes for a long time.  There was Christopher sent by Chris, from Southampton with his wife Eleanor; Maris and I discovered on hands and knees puzzling over what to do with textile text panels.  We end up having a brilliant conversation about creative thinking and curating thoughts in 3-d, later Martyn from Minnesota took a photograph of me dressed up with a tartan blanket on my head holding the Chinese umbrella my sister Jen had given me, in front of the golden frame.  Later I was to see the pic on his professional website, where I feature amongst highlights of a trip to the UK.  So, an international response! 

Interesting conversations just seem to unfold.  All supported by having first class assistance.  Julie, who has come out to play with me over many years, as the Travelling Museum of Possibilities, was also in her element.  I would observe her arranging things quietly and having in depth conversations with different folk, like the little young bloke who carefully made a self portrait book and discussed his little pony and the lovely old lady about her dead loved one Tony who used to sit on her pencil, until she got fed up and put him back in his budgie cage. Then there was the lovely girl and her boyfriend who repeatedly said sorry and mentioned Doctor Who references.  All in a day.

Workshop Sessions

Oh yes, and there was the workshops, the family day Stitch-em-Up, helped by Lucille, Textile Artist, and Jen from Egg Theatre Bath, plus another helper Marcia who was into medieval illuminations, whilst the day was packed, over fifty heads counted at one point, spilling out in the other gallery filled with serious looking portraiture.  

There was never a moment to decide what to get the kids of over 6 years to make, as there wasn't time, except for friends coming and making a bundle of hearts after my grandson Freddie who was going to visit with his brother Lucas, told me that he wanted to go to Build a Bear workshop in Bristol and they gave you a real heart there, plus we made loads of arms and legs for some reason. Anyway, I think I just said, look around and see if there was anything interesting, perhaps do a drawing over here and stick things to it over there, the result was each child made a different artwork which I then got them to model in front of the RWA precious antique golden frame, whilst sitting on the remnants of my installation from Make, Muse & Mutter, when I was dressed as a saint by the participants and a visitor asked to buy a baby saint for his daughter and could he have a hug before leaving whilst in one corner of the room a highly physical visiting Forest School teacher from a town beginning with the letter N forcefully bound up all the tiny rubber children I had laying around, later saying thank you for allowing me to explore my shadow side, whilst in the other corner of the room the artist dreaming of being writer did a complete makeover of the diorama and subsequently emailed me to say she had been inspired to write a 4,000 word essay in response to the interior world rich with limbs, a clock and strands of net...(I think).

Stats: 

Women's Storytelling Workshop: Make, Muse & Mutter, 8 participants (subsequently days + 12)

Workshop Family 6 plus: Stitch-em-Up, 50 plus.

It's all about performance, said Karen.

Maris who had offered to very kindly to assist (to support my practice and for the privilege of the opportunity,arrived with a hugely heavy tiny trolley suitcase full of stuff. She was later to say that the day with me was the highlight of her week.  As she organised herself into the exhibition layout, I kept eyeing up her case, but it was only later in the day after being really busy that I asked her what she had inside. Lots, she said, I didn't know what I might need. What do you want me to do, she asked, when there was a lull in footfall, and, as requested, proceeded to wrap me in lengths of cream calico from my material stock and take photographs. As I sit on friend Karen's tiny chair in front of the RWA antique and very precious golden frame, another Karen arrives. She takes in the space, the result of weeks and weeks of planning, organising and juggling curatorial concerns, a process to which she had supported.  And, like Eleanor who had kindly supported my performative practice by photographing my response to environs during the trip to Italy, takes up her camera and documents the scene. Aha, I think, at last, stillness, a quiet moment. With the pondered what-shall-I-do-with-this-cloth-book featuring rage girl arranged beautifully on my head as a magnificent hat, I sit rather gingerly on the ancient chair and blink. Maris darts to her textile filled suitcase, she whips out in a flash a bundle of colourful feathers, I hold them delicately in my hand, noticing visitors are coming in the gallery and not minding a jot. I feel serious about having to care for the feathers,chair and antique frame, whilst being photographed.  

Why do I keep dressing up?

Next day, I projected the large scale photographic series of me dressed up, instead of previously shown series of environs from my Italy journey. Before public opening, a lovely gentle guy comes in to offer to hoover, he stops to ask if this was the Fashion & Design Dept? Sort of, said Julie. Do people wear these things in Britain,he says, gazing up at me larger than life. Hmm, I said.  Well, he says, in Nigeria, my home, this would be the dress of a King's wife, and then Julie went on to tell him she had royal Nigerian blood in her family line which I never knew. Maybe it is all about the performance after all.

A passion for journaling

It is essential part of my practice, responding to people, place and events. It was great having the museum cabinets at the RWA to respond to, install collections of this and that, and allow the public to interact with certain objects and shares stories. I just love museum culture, making temporary collections of small toys, found objects and curiosities. Visiting friend Sue, fellow artist and lover of found things small, quirky and collectable sent me a tin of rusty dolls house cutlery with the question, too weird or what as a Christmas present. We share a passion for journaling, inspired by journeys to India and Japan. She kindly came, brought calm and order to all my little books, drawings and not-a-books for sale, making sense and a clear invitation of what and how to riffle through little boxes of collections, which people seemed to love and bought quite happily, whilst I worried intensely about how to price a one arm peg doll,and would I have time to stitch the gift cards individually.

During the residency strands of visitors with different personalities, dress, interests, backgrounds and professions, became inspiration for discussion.  A group of textile artist friends visited and muttered about needing to loosen up, and one told me about my work reminding her of Japan. 

I love your bundles & journals

Storytelling Shous

It was so generous of Cristina to respond to my invitation to make a pair of storytelling shoes, (perhaps just right for a pilgrim?), to make from her imagination, and to trust the process of making it up as you go along. Visitors loved the little black leather shoes, glowing in their IKEA illuminated cabinet, the style like a Medici would wear, beautiful stitched, resting on red satin ribbon. Some children asked to hold them and said they needed to be really BIG. I invited them to place them inside the diorama, added a budgie and a plastic arm, with a clock face. I would have loved Cristina to join us, visit from her rural home in Italy, but instead shared the experience through emails. I promised I would attempt to take a video to document, but it was so busy and although it worked sort of, the process was not satisfactory. However, I felt Cristina and her family were there in spirit, as the panoramic photographs of her in working space and that of her antique farming family's home, took pride of place within the museum table. Acknowledging the sacred of the domestic, there is a cat in a tin of beans, the tiny cutlery set, the hearth brush doll I made on my travels and there within the pages of my Italy journal, the gift of the hand crocheted flower which Cristina presented when leaving Le Marche region, N.Italy.  

"Made from fantasy...
you have shared your reality with me...
I am now the artist too."

I send the link to the blog to Cristina, she writes in response:

Hi Jill!

You are in my thought too!!!!

Yesterday I read your mail and I visit your blog!I watch your video about curious narratives in google+ !

My shoes and my photo at work! the first word I think is "extraordinary" ! (me too)!!!!  You describe very accurate! My name!!!!!

the system you use in your work is extraordinary... the people mean the fairy tale and they love to invent...very good!!

Here everything is okay, day questions in the normally life...It's hot and the spring arrive early, I love stay in the garden or kitchen-garden, I love the narcissus! your flowers, your gift:the nasturtium live again and have the yellow flowers! in my garden there are the lily, narcissus, wild violet, hyacinth..beautiful ! 

Thanks so much!! I wait your box bat you take your time! 

happy spring to you too!

Love and peace!           

        Cristina

In Kind

I was totally appreciative and happy to have been given so much,the bursary prize, the trip, the gallery exhibiting space and facilities, an opportunity to make and show new work, and access to new audiences. A key part of partnership projects that is so valuable to an independent artist, and an essential part of funding applications is the balance between all partners and the invaluable support (In Kind). This generosity of exchange was demonstrated as visitors were so openly creative in their feedback. On the D-day (de-installment day)I felt so heart-heavy to have to put everything away so shortly after setting up. I kept unwrapping and re-wrapping the textile books and dolls reflecting that during the working in situ event there was a lot of wrappings, offerings, stories and dreams shared and confessions going on. For instance, talk of the mother who made her daughter work for a Jewish tailor but who didn't want to be a seamstress, but loved textiles and stitching work.

 "I hope whoever buys that textile reliquary piece really treasures it."  

Later, as still trying to get the endless collections of curios into various boxes to bring home again, I am visited by another volunteer, a retired scientist, now studying art, finding himself not much good at thinking outside the box, but rather good at making hats.  As my husband waits to help fold my treasures back into the shape of the front room of our home, there suddenly takes place an interesting conversation about his head and the fact that no hat in the world can make fit...apart from a Brunel Stove Pipe.  There is talk of the possibility of a rigged ship on the top inspired by family ship building tradition, and I reflect that the week in Bristol has been about generosity of exchange, sharing ideas and best practice, references, links, opportunities. 

Thinking about it, I had the idea that working in situ in the gallery would allow time and space to work. I thought would get a chance to work quietly and productively at the beautifully cloth covered oak table in the centre of the room, "nice to see you working in your element" said a visiting artist friend, but I am thinking, fat chance, as people wanted to talk. Admidst the quiet contemplative slowed down atmosphere, I felt at times overwhelmed with the generosity of spirit, the kind art critiques, memories shared, offers of tea and food to eat, ideas exchanged, thoughts about possibilities for projects and new work, there was a bit of artist/student tutorial thing going on here and there, and, surrounded by a visiting writing group, offerings of poetry and stories of My Little Pony, all add to the lively goings on. Until a group of art students sent to visit and the tutor suggests arranging chairs, and I find myself surrounded by a sea of expressionless faces, until three students leap up and start discussing ideas and getting cracking on responding to the invitations in the room to be playful, everyone breathes a sigh of relief.   Changing the space once more, I decided to really get cracking with making something, an evaluation/report with a difference, a lovely girl, sent by her tutor "don't come into college, go visit Jill Carter", stayed all day with her boyfriend who kept muttering Doctor Who references, and I put them to work, playing at making a giant report with leftovers found in the space.  Later it was described as a possible diorama you might imagine in your dream and left hanging in the corridor with a set of puppets.

"A diorama you might imagine in a dream," he said.

The Art of being an Artist in Residence

I felt really at home in the seemingly hidden away space of the Feddon Gallery, a chapel shaped space, used for business meetings and temporary exhibitions, Bristol's best kept basement transformed, but in need of more signage,which was resolved when Joel the liaison manager who used to work at Tate St Ives downloaded and arranged his favourite British Standard pointing fingers. And, so it was, with equal measure of exhaustion and happiness and overwhelming richness of feedback from visitors to the what looks like imposing but actually is really friendly academy, folk from all walks of life, art buffs, to visiting parents with young children, to artists,collectors,curators, tourists and volunteers.

"You needed to stay longer,the show wasn't on long enough"... 

Aha, I thought, what happened to those once upon a time talked about deliciously long artist in residency projects, six months or so, where time was spacious and allowed for process, a space for making, reflection, taking risks.  Modern life is so condensed with fractured time.  A dream it would be to install the work, go away and lay down for a week, go back sit with the work and reflect for a week, and then invite the public and interact and respond, then repeat in reverse.  How would that be!!! 

 It was time to leave the RWA, even though the lovely girl Rose on the front desk 
said she wanted me to live there, but I have a feeling that is called a real job. 

At the RWA I felt hugely supported and it was great working as part of a team. Gemma,the exhibition manager, kept me informed of developments all through the process of being awarded the Travel Bursary, through to the setting up of the residency/exhibition. It was a valuable insight into how things within the organisation worked.  Being hugely patient when I kept changing my mind about work titles and having to produce the dreaded Excel spreadsheet of FACTS, she later asks when my project is completed if there is any feedback for them as an organisation, for other artists, but what can I suggest? For me, the opportunity to work on developing one's practice, as artist in residence in a rich cultural setting, is a privilege.  It is a special time, to respond to people and place, to connect with different creative organisations and step into their world, respecting their way of working, being open to the dynamic of creative exchange, which is mutually beneficial. So, for me, the aim is to work hard and simply bring the very best of yourself to the opportunity. 

Storytelling in 3-D

When installing work in the gallery my aim was to create a warm and welcoming space, to inspire curiosity in others, for me to have time to reflect on themes and narratives, e.g. the Self, icons, shrines, rituals, storytellers,and the RWA ideally fitted my residency within the RWA programme exploring identity, with a larger exhibition One Self is Another. The idea was to be open to explore the act of storytelling, and gather feedback. Think about what next...  

"You are very brave to stay in the space, with your work, I would find it daunting, what if people gave critical feedback?"

At a transition point in my practice, needing to develop artist-led practice, move forwards from my previous social engagement practice, where I was known for interventions, reportage photography and journaling workshops, experienced in delivering arts and health projects. Instead,I felt the need to nourish my own creativity and engage in the act of contemplative making. It was very new territory to see myself as a maker, but during the lead up to the show, and challenges of experiencing huge learning curves, I found the ritual of making altered pages, cloth figurines, inspired calm and mindful ritual.  This exhibition was my first solo show exhibiting my personal work, inspired by research in Italy into the Sibyls, women storytellers, but also unearthing my childhood memories and upbringing in the Catholic church. I pray Roger Watson from Fox Talbot Photographic Museum, National Trust, Lacock Abbey comes to visit, as I had previously been to visit him with the photograph series, and my dream was to consider book arts as the next stage of the project development, then, fingers crossed do a residency at Lacock.  I had written of the idea whilst Roger was in Paris, he wrote replying he had no idea what I was proposing, but the answer was yes. He comes to visit and talks about 1001 nights and layers of stories, of storytelling in 3-d.

"I don't know what it is about your work Jill, but it makes me want to tell my own stories...Your textile dolls are like saints in niches"...

Just keep making

Without a formal studio, access to time in a creative environment with like minded professionals was fabulous. The experience and time working at the RWA helped endorse my identity as an artist,the role of artist as collector, curator and chronicler, with a strong performative element central to this process. It helped me own my work.  It was so rewarding to experience comments and rather shyly I had to response to people who asked to be given first offer on new work, a process, which is relatively new to me, as previously as a participatory arts practitioner, I had generated income through direct project commissions. 

"I am amazed at the breadth of your creativity, the work you have done in one year. Fabulous...just keep making." 

The possibilities of formal/informal curation and quality of presentation methods was made possible funding from Grants for the Arts. It was a delight to commission a Bristol framer, James Ferguson, who so mindfully created box frames and museum box to show off the textile figurines, cloth book and frame calligraphic drawings and altered pages. The surprising element for me was such positive response to my textile works.

Dreaming & Stitching

"I would love to buy your textile book,she said,but in a way I think it should be in a public space for many people to enjoy and experience its healing nature, I could imagine your work in a permanent museum collection, do you have an agent?"

ROYAL WEST OF ENGLAND ACADEMY

"Brilliant" she said. Apparently, I had done an amazing job with Curious Narratives, at the RWA, Bristol, in collaboration with the first class team of staff, a seven day, working in situ, residency/exhibition,(extended to eight due to public demand).  

Turning not a page, the flowers looked to left and right

The opportunity for a solo show in a city art academy was inspired by trialling new work and submitting into the RWA Bristol, Drawnexhibition, in Spring 2013. To my utter faint-like amazement, for my, never-done-it-before, embroidered cloth storytelling book,Dreaming & Stitching, I won a bursary trip to Italy and the offer of showing my humble research findings and works in progress on my return. Hilds, a dear friend and writer, said how about trying for Arts Council funding, and I thought, yes, why not, I need a business angel, and that became a really positive focus for endless possibilities. 

"Brilliant, she said, 
I would come into this space in order to feel uplifted"...

Now, after months of preparation, excitement and the sheer dread of Excel spreadsheets for accounts, gallery titles, labels and sizes of photographic works, costs of prints, framing,and decisions around graphic publicity and curation, a watershed in my practice has been reached.  I find myself suddenly standing in the quiet stillness of the Feddon Gallery presented with an armful of beautiful fragrant Spring flowers, as a thank you "for all your hard work" by the RWA Director. She is wearing a huge smile and a lovely wool jacket, whereas I am under a layer of utter exhaustion, totally happy and yet sad that I have to leave. What a wonderful gift, all thanks due to Theresa Knowles, the mystery patron! It is time to close up my storytelling shop, after one week one day engaging with over four hundred visitors, two workshops the first of 8 participants/morphing over the week to twenty or so folk ready to get hands on and make stuff, plus in the family storytelling workshop so many I couldn't count as I was a blur, but we think it was fifty odd, with three assistants, plus RWA helpers, a team of friends, family and others along the way such as Cristina in Italy who was so open to creative collaboration and exchange. I feel truly blessed.  

How do you feel now?

Julie, friend and creative assistant, two weeks after the RWA residency/exhibition, asks me how I feel, I say I am in recovery, thinking about how to evaluate and shall we debrief over a personally not publicly funded celebratory Tapas supper with glass of red vino, following the seven days, extended to eight due to visiting lecturers asking if I could stay on and they would send their students. There is lots to discuss and digest. Julie, who assisted me, wants to give back the money I posted to her to pay for her time and amazing support.  I can't accept it, she says. I say I costed it into the budget, and I couldn't have done the level of engagement without you being there installed with me in the Feddon. I can't accept it, she says again, sweetly. How can you get paid for something you so enjoy? Back at work for her was being in the environment of a health centre, missing the sound installation, the warm murmuring voices of Italian women and me saying "Where are we going"...."Cristina's voice, asking "Are you a believer". I felt like asking them to dim the lights at work, but didn't think that would go down well. How about you?  she asked. 

Well, for me it was strange.  Months of planning towards the trip to Italy, the experience, the trauma involved, coming back, deciding to apply for the rarified opportunity of Arts Council funding, the shock of getting a grant, planning an exhibition of new work, all undertaken in one year, organising what to print, how to install, how to present, the framing, the curation of the work...as Gemma the exhibition manager at the RWA said "A body of work that should be cohesive".  

"I love just love the way you create environs 
for us to wonder about the stories",

A time rich with layers of excitement, creative focus and worry, a condensed experience, responsibility about handling public funds, a project exploring identity and ironically Lloyds Bank sending the newly created AC funded account wrongly named cheque card and cheque book, so at the beginning of the exhibition, I had to draw on the Bank of Julie and my joint account at the outset; this, with organising assistants, sweating over the graphics possibilities and print results and making the budget stretch, resulting though as Mark at Hot Pepper Designs said "worth going the extra mile", being invited to be a feature in the Bristol free press Metro which bumped up the publicity; Bristol artist Anita telling me about Kat Quartermass, Director, Bristol Storytelling Festival, who was later to say "We loved working with Jill Carter and the RWA...how about planning something together for next year's programme; plus the making of work process through it all, driving up and down the M4 to Bristol, filling the car twice over with what I had thought to be an easily portable storytelling achive; installing over three days, wall hung works, plinth presented arrangements, over four hundred visitors, the overwhelmingly positive feedback, a large working table with me and assistant installed in the centre of the 40' long chapel shaped high ceiling room, with lights dimmed and sound created from archive in italy in collaboration with Gurchetan Singh who I never budgeted for and whom I hoping will forget the time we spent on making a layerscape of extracts of sound of the women talking in the square in Italy, the sound of creaking open doors to churches and found enclaves, the drawing posted back from Italy of the three Sibyls which later Barrington, an elder RWA academician said was "Amazing, free, flowing, form...I wish I can draw like that...Chinese/Japanese influences...I"m going to come and sit in the room and draw with you, and so he did, and finally, there we are on the first day, in the basement of the RWA, standing in front of The Beast, the antique vitrine filled with my journals, collections, bundles installed with a photographic print of myself in front of the Altar of the Madonna, when slowly to my horror I see the back panel collapsing on the most important part of the installation...it could have been the orchid in the porcelain cup, but no, it was The Pretend Flickering Candle Lamp with two traditional dolls arranged. There is a scream from me, then, Ben the larger than life hero and sculptor, plus RWA highly calm Technical Manager comes to help once again haul the huge weighty display cabinet, so I can manoeuvre my tiny arms into the back and we stick yards of gaffer tape to make the back panel stay in place.  There is a sigh of relief all round.

IT ALL STARTED WITH...

This is my reflective log of Curious Narratives, an artist-led,contemporary art project, supported by Arts Council funding, exploring the act of storytelling, looking at ideas around identity, iconography and the Self; responding to diverse contexts of art, literature, education and museum settings.  The aim to develop a new body of work through a series of partnership interventions, including artist in residence, exhibitions and workshops, inspiring ideas through generosity of exchange, engaging new audiences and exploring creative possibilities. 

Diverse creative works include an interactive museum of possibilities, 3-d mixed media dolls, textile books with text, artist’s books, bundles of found and given objects, photographs, diorama, sound installation, drawings, works for sale and performative interventions.  Based in South-West UK, near Swindon, artist is available to share project process through talks, workshops and exhibitions.

Dreaming & Stitching, Jill Carter, 2013

Curious Narratives was inspired by and began with a journey to Italy, made possible through the Theresa Knowles Travel Bursary, awarded by the Royal West of England Academy for a textile embroidered storytelling book Dreaming & Stitching, and, as part of the prize, the offer of a residency/exhibition in the Feddon Gallery.  The quest to Northern Italy over three weeks enabled research into the Sibyls, mythological storytellers, prophets and foretellers. 

The aim of this log is to explore thoughts around my identity as artist, evaluate the project and share practice with others.