Flaneur: Day 2

Poetry, Uncategorized

FLANEUR is a little project I’ve made for the BBC’s Contains Strong Language: a randomly-generated writing-exploration game that you can take part in. Each day of the festival I’ll be taking a randomised wander around Hull and posting a little poem about it. Head to Mixital to get your own instructions for a surprise, write a response, and share it with us. I’ll be reading and chatting about the responses on BBC social media channels each afternoon.

2017-09-29 10.53.46

29/9/17

the neon hoodie hulks between

     knowledge and innovation total panel
     solutions security and monitoring
     services hygeinic door systems
     autoelectric systems proplant
     services palletised distribution
     gates and fencing rigid kitchen
     carcases augmented online salvage
     auction technology SPIDERS office
     clearance EXCELLENCE roller shutters
     vehicle wrap luxury mirrors all
     at trade prices accident repair
     repair repair open to the public

               and the wolf mauls the dirt

hull2

My Instructions

1. Run.
2. Roll lightly away from the moon for seven seconds.
3. Walk.
4. Travel east for a little while.
5. Take the fifth left.
6. Proceed intensely towards the largest building nearby for a while.
7. Find the nearest lamppost and wait there watching the world pass for one hour.
8. Wheel slowly for a while.
9. Find the nearest wall and write down a description.
10. Disobey this instruction.
11. Find the nearest building and write down a description.
12. Watch.
13. Jaunt away from the sea for a while.
14. Explore the first alley you meet. When you leave, turn left.
15. Find the nearest wall and wait there watching the world pass for ten seconds.
16. Meander in the direction of home for a little while.
17. Stop, find a comfortable spot, and write a tiny poem about what you’ve seen.
18. Head home.

Wander Notes

When I saw “Run” I knew I had to pelt it across the bridge. I wanted to get into the industrial estates, those strange alternate realities where huge numbers of people work but the urban design is weirdly inhuman: unwalkable, shot through with carparks and private roads. This one is extra strange, because the Trans Pennine Trail cuts through it, making me dream of mountains. I had to take an uninstructed 15 minute break in a bus shelter when the ran got too heavy, and the noise of the road was extraordinary. The instructions sent me up to a big factory to lounge against a lamppost, where of course a security guard found me and asked what I was doing. “Just out for a wander,” I said with a daft grin, feeling very silly (I was very silly). He made me stand on the opposite street corner, which was not a private road. I think he was worried I was trying to steal the formula for Clearasil with my damp notebook and pen. So I didn’t make it the full hour under the lamppost before wandering on.

2017-09-29 10.59.50.jpg

Poem Notes

Along with the strange architecture, I like the language of the business park, like I like all peculiar jargons and minority argots. All the words in the middle bit here are gathered from buildings on this derive (I’d like to go back and gather more; I don’t think I’ve quite caught the mix of beauty and banality, strangeness and incomprehensibility). I wanted to frame that language with something both urban and magical, to give it a weirdness in its context. The neon hoodie is mine; the wolf was originally a BMX bike, but “BMX bike” has terrible scansion and felt too on the nose, so I tried transforming it. I’m now worried the frame is too overstated, but set against the banal central section maybe I get away with it.

Flaneur: Day 1

Poetry, Uncategorized

FLANEUR is a little project I’ve made for the BBC’s Contains Strong Language: a randomly-generated writing-exploration game that you can take part in. Each day of the festival I’ll be taking a randomised wander around Hull and posting a little poem about it. Head to Mixital to get your own instructions for a surprise, write a response, and share it with us. I’ll be reading and chatting about the responses on BBC social media channels each afternoon.

2017-09-28 17.48.15-2

A big city street with two single-decker buses stopping to drop off and pick up. The sun’s setting. Half-timbered house in the rear, and a few big green trees to the right.

28/9/17

The growl and wheeze of city buses, tired
little dragons, settling to eat a bit
of flesh, dump a bit of flesh, grump their doors
and curse themselves on. Blinking at bikes,
scowling at silent black chelsea tractors — this city
was theirs once, giving its gold, and now a thousand
motors a minute bother their bones, slowed
to rumbling lurch…
___________________________but hey, here’s a straight
and a clear yellow lane: hear them fly.

2017-09-28 18.00.48.jpg

My feet up on the wall outside Hull’s Guildhall, where I finished the wander: green socks and purple trainers.

Wander Notes

My instructions:
1. Proceed gently for eighteen seconds.
2. Watch.
3. Meander gently for a while.
4. Roll away from the sea for a while.
5. Take the fourth right.
6. Find the nearest seat and take a rubbing of it.
7. Roll towards the moon for a while.
8. Wheel east for two miles.
9. Go sideways for three seconds.
10. Walk.
11. Take the fifth right.
12. Stop, find a comfortable spot, and write a poem about what you’ve heard.
13. Head back.

A little city centre walk, starting out at BBC Humberside, taking an eccentric loop through shopping and residential streets, before darting off to the river and finishing off with a dander through the old town. Not being a wheelchair user, I interpreted “roll” with a relaxed, dawdling gait; not being a river, I started out with a loopy wander round the fountain for “meander”. There was an awkward moment as I fumbled on my phone trying to figure out roughly what direction the moon was in, and I had my first cheat, being too hungry to walk for 2 miles and cutting it off early. Cheating is definitely encouragesd. A pleasant way to get familiar with the centre of Hull, its mix of big uncrossable roads, pedestrianised shopping, post-industrial and post-commercial spaces and grand old buildings. I’ll start nearer the edge tomorrow and see if I end up somewhere stranger.

hull1

A map of the walk, starting out in Queen’s Gardens, looping through the shopping centre, then up to the river and down though the old town. I wasn’t drunk, I just don’t have a good mouse for drawing smooth lines.

Poem Notes
It’s nerve-wracking, sharing quickly-written poems! I wonder if visual artists who share their sketches feel the same way. Anyway, I’m pleased here with capturing the sound of buses, which I love and have always noticed and couldn’t place until I thought of dragons. When writing quickly, you can generally only get to one or two good things: here, a central image to work through and a set of sounds to play with. I think I’ve overdone it on the sound effects, which need to be reigned in (or, more fun and silly, pushed further), and I don’t think I’ve quite caught the ending yet — too glib, too cheesy! But I’m glad to have met some dragons.

 

Provocations for a Culture Strategy

Uncategorized

For reasons opaque to me, I’ve been invited to a Scottish Government workshop on Culture Strategy next week. I’m not quite sure what will happen there, but it’s given me an occasion to write down some thoughts on how the arts are and could be funded. What follows are some poorly-thought-through provocations for arts funding policy. Some of them may very well be bad. I’d very much like yours. I’m conscious that I’ve probably been invited to this workshop as a representative of the bolshie grassroots, the messy fringe, and to that end I’d like to take to the room some of the voices that aren’t but should be there. If you’ve got suggestions for a Scottish culture strategy, tell me them and I’ll try to bring them up.

Some Major Problems for Arts Funding

1) Most artists I know cannot make a living wage from their work. The younger they are, the more likely they are to be indebted, precariously-employed, and private renters, unable to access the social and economic capital of previous generations. Whereas previous generations of artists were to some degree subsidised by unemployment and other benefits, these routes have been cut off to most. This has a knock-on effect on diversity, as racialised and other minoritised people are even less likely to access support for their work economically, and face other social barriers as well. The result is an arts scene dominated by middle- and upper-class white people, still, at all levels of production and management, but increasingly-so further up the hierarchy.

2) This means in turn that marginalised voices are tokenized and put into their own boxes: the queer artist is only able to get paid to make art about being queer, for example, or the organisation that does good accessibility work is shunted from the “Performance” panel to the “Diversity” panel (this happened to one of mine). Marginalised voices are more likely to have to rely on crowdfunding, self-exploitation, non-arts jobs and so on in order to make the work they want to make.

3) Publicly-funded arts do not command mass public support. We are luvvies. We are seen as an indulgence. Not enough people see the link between publicly-funded arts, community and education arts, and private sector arts (e.g. an actor in a West End musical may make most of their money in the public sector; a school poetry workshop is only possible thanks to a public support infrastructure). Some of the blame for this must lie in which arts are funded: arts enjoyed broadly by richer people, such as opera and ballet, get the most funding support, whereas arts enjoyed broadly by poorer people, such as hiphop and videogames, get the least public support and are expected to survive in the commercial sector alone. The result is that when public spending cuts come the arts are often the first to go and the worst punished.

4) Arts organisations are riven by multiple economic inequalities. The gap between the wage earned by the Artistic Director of a national theatre and that earned by an actor in that theatre is shameful. Those in administration and management have the most stable jobs and wages, while those actually making art have the least access to jobs and stability, with producers somewhere in the middle. That is, the arts model the inequalities of the wider employment sector, with executives consolidating their power, trickling up wages to the top, and exploiting the labour of those who actually make the commodity. This is also linked to and runs through the problems of points one and two, meaning that those marginalised by factors like disability and race are also hit by these inequalities.

5) There is no clear understanding of or approach to the gradients between “professional” and “amateur” arts. Far more people want to be involved in the arts than can currently find employment in the arts. Submitting your art to a wage-relation also destroys the pleasure of art for some. By necessity or choice, there is a large unpaid arts sector, from community drama groups to volunteer orchestras. This is a vital part of cultural life, but who has access to capital to support that culture is shaped by all the factors previously discussed: the more marginal your voice, the more likely your art will be seen as amateur and undeserving of support. It also creates a greyzone for all artists: as one moves from amateur to professional, because there is no formal apprenticeship (even arts qualifications usually do not lead to immediate employment), one takes on many free and underpaid gigs, and institutions are liable to exploit this to sell art and undercut wages. Support for “community” and “professional” arts is intertwined in fact but not in practice.

6) The ability to earn a living as an artist depends on a number of skills and capacities entirely unrelated to artistic ability, e.g. networking, application-writing, volunteering availability, interview technique, &c. These skills are also distributed along vectors of marginalisation, reinforcing social hierarchies. In particular, public funding is closed off to independent artists who cannot speak the language of funders and write a funding application; at present, support for them is mostly available through other freelance artists lending help. Meanwhile, full-time organisations often employ fundraising officers to help them access both public and private funds. The result, again, is that power and capital consolidate to themselves: it’s easier to get money if you have money, and the cycle continues.

7) In Scotland, and most of all in Edinburgh, the festival model dominates the arts. In this model, employment for artists and art for audiences is made available only seasonally in order to concentrate a marketing push. In some cases, festivals market themselves as an opportunity artists must pay to be part of. As a result, the precaritisation of the arts, and the ability of landlords and financiers to be parasitic on the labour of artists to the point of emptying it entirely of wages, is deepened, while the ability to create year-round arts institutions and community-embedded arts practice is weakened. Moreover, the arts become a special thing that happens in a specific place and time, rather than something threaded through life.

8) We don’t know what arts funding is for. Is it to support art that cannot survive in the commercial market?–To make the art that doesn’t sell? Is it to enure artists can make a living? Is it to diversify the cultural scene?–To enable anyone from any background to access any artform, as artist or audience? Is it to strengthen the sustainability and economic potential of the Creative Industries? –To invest for a greater return? Because these different and sometimes mutually-exclusive aims are muddled together, we have a muddled and directionless approach to arts funding.

Some Ideas Which Are Not Solutions But Might Help Find Some

1) Artists’ unions to negotiate pay rates with funding bodies, and funding bodies to refuse funding to any organisation which does not meet those rates at every level.

2) Arts executive pay for funded organisations to be capped at a 3:1 ratio to that of the lowest-paid worker (including maintenance staff).

3) For every administrator or producer employed by a funded organisation, an artist must also be given a full-time job making art. Alternatively, funded bodies must dedicate at least 50% of their annual budget directly to artists.

4) Professional and community arts to be managed by the same public agency, with a ratio of funding to be determined following research (but 50:50 seems like a good one to aim for to me). That is, for every £1 spend employing someone within a professional arts organisation (i.e. one that employs artists), £1 is given in to a community arts organisation (i.e. one that provides free/supercheap access to creative activities).

5) Funding bodies to have explicit policies to favour workers’ co-operatives, i.e. arts organisations which are owned and democratically-managed by their workers. At least, as an interim stage, funding bodies to support the development of workers’ co-operatives through training, starting with their own staff.

6) Artists’ unions to establish new closed shop venues and publishers, &c., or to negotiate with existing organisations to establish closed shops, where only union members can work and pay and benefits are fixed.

7) Funded organisations to meet robust diversity quotas for employees, artists and audiences or face defunding. Quotas should be in excess of demographic proportions..

8) Funding bodies to make at least a third of their funds small grants (£1-5k) directly available to artists, with ultra-low entry requirements and monitoring. The “failure” of many of these grants to be accepted and celebrated.

9) Governments to invest in rent-free housing available to artists on application with ultra-low entry requirements.

10) Government-backed arts apprenticeships established, whereby one works at subsidised wages for 1-3 years learning acting or marketing with a guaranteed job at the end of it.

11) Any funding officer in a publicly-funded organisation is seconded for 25% of their time to an organisation any freelance artist can access to help write their funding applications.

12) Arts organisations and non-governmental funders to have an explicit policy of campaigning for unemployment, disability and other social benefits, in recognitionn that these are a crucial form of arts subsidy.

13) No festivals.