Not so shocking pink, but still relevant!

This less than conspicuous fluorescent pink book, titled, ‘Creativity: Why it matters’ from chief executive of Arts Council England, Darren Henley was published last week on the 28^th June and is the sort of book that, if I still worked in a bookshop, I would most definitely have on display till-side. It’s small enough to read quickly and gives a convincing polemic for why creativity in all its forms generates a significant impact on the economy, in our communities, in our lives and education that leaves a lasting impression long after reading. 

Somewhat bias of me but much of what Henley’s book covers will ring true with what those already in the art world know/believe about the labours and  importance of their undertaking already, but is heartening nonetheless to have the message, along with some impressive stats and examples (such as Hull’s experiences being capital of culture) to demonstrate how creativity drives innovation, boosts our economy and enables individuals and communities to shape and define their futures. 

“The creative industries contributed £91.8 billion to the UK economy in 2016 –that’s 5.3 percent of the UK economy (bigger than the combined totals of the automotive, life sciences, aerospace and oil and gas industries).”

This is exactly the sort of manifesto that one would want to come out from someone at the helm of Arts Council England and though he states that it is ‘his’ words rather than an official publication of the organisation, it is still reinforcing much of what must be some of the values and ambitions of Arts Council England? I assume! Henley also talks about the value of creativity (broadly speaking) rather than being pigeon-holed as being something only relevant to the arts and how its capacity for inducing curiosity, problem solving and analytical skills are essential in many industries as well as helping tackle rising problems of loneliness and issues surrounding mental-health. One such example cited by Professor Roger Kneebone is to use arts within sciences to teach medical staff,

“The expertise of the scientists and medics informs the creativity of the artists; and the expertise of the artists helps the scientists and medics to think and act more creatively.”

Of course, again my own personal bias is coming across here (having quite recently started working in a medical library) but in an era when arts are being increasingly cut in education and undervalued in the academic jobs market this little book is an important voice in the need to remind, inspire and nurture the provision of creativity. It isn’t simply a call for more money to be thrown at it, but a sort of recognition and investment that must first come from time and understanding. Some of the most successful musicians, artists and performers etc. often come out of places with little or no opportunity because there is a need or desire for expression and the arts in these areas of our communities. It also highlights the diversity of places and means by which people are ‘creative’ from cooking, to gardening, walking, writing and even fishing! However, the argument of when and where people learn and retain their creativity is something of contention but must still be encouraged. One such example cited that was of personal interest, being libraries, 

“Libraries consistently emerge from surveys as being especially trusted institutions, safe spaces and resources of integrity. They are also making an evolutionary journey towards being communal, creative hubs, where you would be likely to access a 3D printer as a novel. Maybe we should develop these trusted community resources so that they become miniature local universities –centres for life-long learning and bases for new kinds of co-operative creative work. Centres of citizenship.” 

Interesting and I haven’t really given too much thought into the practicalities of such a proposition, but I know that from working in a bookshop retail environment that what bookshops offer goes farther than being merely ‘just a place to shop’ yet, it seems, they are seldom by government or otherwise supported as being anything other. Yet they, libraries and other places people go to learn, socialise, have fun, connect and discover could continue and even be much more than they already offer. A thread that continues into Henley’s final chapter which addresses creativity and education and is critical of how it is being cut-back at the peril of failing to invest in human progress.

“Art education is not a luxury, it’s a necessity.”

Though its not all doom and gloom, he makes several resonate observations of why creativity is important in the development of a person's sense of self and potential to make positive change, in-fact the overriding feeling is one that this book is small and punchy enough to have an impact that could instigate long-lasting change, as long as the right people are (reading) listening. I hope so.

Stop the presses!

Tales from the print room....

 

After two weeks of quite political posts this weeks’ takes on a more reflective tone, looking at my brief stint of ‘running’ the print room at Somerset College. (Those of a nervous disposition read no further!) I exaggerate, there isn’t really much to tell nor indeed was it particularly eventful, but the very fact that I was left responsible to look-after it for two weeks is in itself pretty news worthy. It’s not in my nature to take things lightly, perhaps once, when Starbursts were called Opal Fruits, ‘Fun House’ was still on TV and when ‘walking the dog’ meant doing a trick with a yoyo; I was a bit more carefree and a lot less ‘serious’ than I am now then the prospect of being left alone in a print room would be pretty damn cool.  It still is, but then, you probably wouldn’t have wanted the younger-me to run such a place, it could only have ended in a messy, squashed-fingered and chaotic sort of way. So, there I was, the ‘serious’ adult me, the prestigious print room key in my possession. How exactly did I succumb to this opportunity you ask? I’ve been teaching upstairs in Fine Art, only for a few days, and due to a staff sickness in the print room I was asked to cover it. I’d studied at SCAT so I was familiar with the print room and specialised in mono printing for my own practice so I was fairly confident I could keep it running safely and tidily, covering the most basic of print techniques. My own experiences of printmaking had been based from taking lessons from a now retired (I think it’s safe to say) eccentric (and I use the term widely), wild bearded but incredibly knowledgeable technician who was pretty protective of his print room. Whilst I felt I learnt how to actually make prints, I never really got to learn the practical things like mixing ink with extender (perhaps obvious, but who knew if it was always done for us). So there’s a few holes in my knowledge, nothing that I couldn’t handle and wasn’t willing to learn quickly.

 

As I was saying, so I had the key (pardon the megalomania) and dozens of new opportunities at my fingertips from drypoint, etching, lino, wood, lithography, collagraph, monotype, aquatint, silk screen and more...It was also half term, so it was relatively quiet in terms of students so between bouts of cleaning/organising and finding where everything was stored I took the opportunity to try a quick drypoint and mono type, examples of which can be seen here. Although, I can appreciate the quality of printmaking and take great pleasure in seeing other people’s prints, one of my favourite artists of all time, Jim Dine is a printmaker, not to mention that as an avid bookworm I am indebted to printmaking, for if it not for print then there’d be no books. Books aside, whilst I have always felt drawn to prints by artists like Dine and others, I’ve tried emulating certain qualities from their work (be it formal or subject matter) in other ways than print taking more delight in trying to replicate their processes/surfaces/affects in drawing or paint. I take more joy in the amateur techniques, the amateur, the ’do it yourself’ kind-of mentality that makes for a more immediate spontaneity, whilst you can still achieve this in printmaking, I still think it’s more controlled.

 

I was hoping to maybe ignite my love of print, but soon after soaking the paper ready for drypoint I already found myself remembering why I disliked the process-led nature of print making, its preparation time frustrates me and as an impatient artist I prefer immediacy of drawing, painting and mono type. Although, even those processes in each of their own way has elements of preparation to them (be in stretching a canvas, or organising drawing materials, rolling out ink) so maybe it is the formal-ness of the print room that I dislike, preferring the privacy and freedom of the studio. It does, however also highlight something interesting about creativity and how it works. For example, it feels a bit silly that we create rooms like print rooms, studios etc that we make ourselves be ‘creative’ in but these sorts of spaces facilitate and nurture creativity rather than instigate it in the first instance (?).  Personally, I feel less creative when there is an expectation to be creative because I’m in the studio or print room. Hence, one of the good things of using my room as a ‘studio’ as it is multi-functional which some people could see as a distraction, but for me become more of a stimulus and inspiration to make work. However, most of my own creative thinking probably happens when I’m not ‘trying’ to be creative at all, often I get most ideas when out walking or walking home to/from work, having a shower, cleaning, reading, watching a film, in conversation over a drink, travelling on the train, food shopping etc etc. Does anyone ever really have all their creative ideas in a studio?

 

So, I’ve ascertained that printmaking (except for mono printing) might not be for me and that if anything I’m probably more interested in the room and its contents. The presses, inks, letter blocks, cutting tools and print paraphernalia. Like when Alain de Botton was ‘writer in residence’ at Heathrow Airport and made a book of observations, ‘A Week at the Airport’; I could easily find myself enthused over describing the splatters of ink in the sink, stained psychedelic rags used for cleaning, coppers, glass, Perspex, wood, the sounds of the press as it rolls and squeezes, the crisp/sticky sound of ink being rolled out, the creaking of the ‘used’ rags basket as it slowly rots and splits open and clang and clashing of the drying wrack....The smells alone could be a whole separate post, turps, oil paint, floor stripper and swarfega as could a description into the state of the skin on my hands after only spending 7 days in there! It made me realise how difficult and complex a place it is to run.

 

 

It’s easy to romanticise looking back on these experiences and when you don’t work in there every day. One could probably paint quite a romantic picture in words about working in a bookshop (as I do), until you’re faced with the reality of what it’s really like to work in these kinds of places, when you seldom have the time or luxury to reflect, appreciate or notice it. Hence my decision to reflect on it here, albeit brief, certainly given me a lot more respect for print as a process and those who choose to use it whilst my time in the print room was short-lived it certainly made an impression.