It was a shock. I lost all my arts in education work and income overnight. At first, I pretty much panicked in that I applied for any work, anywhere with a sense of dread that I would end up having to leave behind a creative life I had spent so many years trying to put together. At the same time, suddenly there was a space which I couldn’t negotiate productively. I would have loved to have used the time that opened up before me creatively, but I was too anxious about money. And then I benefitted from an emergency grant from the Arts Council. I was so grateful and promised to use my time well, even as I disinfected everything in sight, even as I limited going out to an early morning gallop with the dog, even as I stressed about my keyworker daughter exposed to the public.
Developing Ideas
Gradually, my heartbeat slowed, and I began to think and write again – in that gloriously beautiful weather in the first year. I sealed off the world and zoomed. It has made me think of hybrid theatre forms and I have discovered the potential for intimacy, as well as theatre’s wider online reach, but still, a year on the yearning for the energy of live performance is very strong.
I count myself lucky. I was commissioned to write a play with funding put in place before the pandemic. It was a stop start experience for the theatre company – even as auditions, and script read throughs were held and rehearsals began, they were postponed, the project settling into a waiting time as theatres closed and new variants emerged and made being together impossible. I think we learnt patience this year.
There are limitations to not being in the same room. Part of my working life is spent in a writers’ room with two other scriptwriters where we develop television and radio drama. It is a crucible where we hammer out a series, it is so much harder to interrupt each other passionately, the creative energy is missing in action. We adapt but it is not evolution.
Belona Greenwood’s book The Flying Shop of Imagination, is full of inspiring ideas to get children writing and inventing.
Final Thoughts
It is a year since I have spent time in a school with real, 3D children. Delivering an arts project to six-year-olds for a day in maverick weather this week was brilliant. A real return. But I cannot forget. We all carry a sorrow for the suffering of then and now. I cannot but believe that as artists we are in a fragile peace, we live in uncertainty and with that there is a challenge. Out of chaos comes creation.
I am an environmental artist based in Norwich, my artistic practice crosses between many disciplines, but my particular focus is on sculpture, drawing and printmaking.
As an extension of this I also create participatory projects which involve working with people, connecting them with nature through artistic activities. Before lockdown, this involved traveling across the country, working with audiences of all ages.
At the start of lockdown, all of the projects I had been working on got cancelled or postponed, within the matter of a few days, this was a scary state to be in as a freelancer!
Then, with more time on my hands, I had a chance to pause and reflect. I decided to use this time as a chance to teach myself some new skills; video recording and editing. I also taught myself how to use a series of digital design packages.
One of the first projects I was able to use these digital skills on was a commission from MarketPlace as part of their ‘Creative Conversations in Isolation’ programme. I created a four-part video series entitled ‘Art and the Fens’ exploring different environment aspects of the Fens and shared ideas for how to make different creative responses.
Activities included making a recording card for documenting a walk, how to make a pocket sketchbook to draw in, a video on anthotype printing using food and spices, and finally a video about using textiles to explore Fenland geology.
It was important to me that the videos felt relaxed and like a conversation between me and the viewer. I also decided I wanted to create a handy guide to each video for people or download or print, hopefully making the project even more accessible.
Working in lockdown has really made me miss connecting with the people, and even though I know the videos can’t replace the joy of being in the same room, they are an important way for people to connect with others in isolation and use creativity for its therapeutic and relaxing benefits.
Since the project, I have been incorporating my newfound video and digital design skills into all of the other projects I am working on. I’ve found that, even though it can take a little while to get the hang of, using videos can be a really helpful way to share your ideas and artwork with others.
When lockdown came into force in March 2020, I lost all my freelance work overnight. As a performance poet, I do a lot of arts and music festivals, and the cancelation of these left a real hole in my calendar. I also run workshops in schools, and I had two large schools projects cancelled because of the pandemic.
It was certainly a shock to begin with, but as a freelance artist, I’m fairly used to precarious working. Thankfully, since Spring 2020, I’ve been able to work with wonderful organisations like MarketPlace, and be part of innovative projects bringing creativity to communities in the digital space.
As an educator, I was initially concerned that video conferencing would be complicated and sterile when compared to face-to-face facilitation. Luckily, the fantastic folk at Paper Cranes – the writing collective I run in Nottingham – were supportive and patient while we worked out how to switch to online sessions. Now, I relish the challenge of teaching groups online, and being able to continue to write with our collective has been a real boost to my mental health too!
I also took the opportunity to do a number of live performances over Zoom, and I’ve really enjoyed ‘visiting’ events across the world. Being able to connect across borders and time zones has enabled collaboration on a scale I certainly never thought possible before!
Over 2020, I’ve been intensely grateful to those organisations providing creative opportunities for artists and communities to work together. The MarketPlace Creative Conversations project in August 2020 was a wonderful example of this. The collaborative poem we produced is something that I am immensely proud of.
Writing during a pandemic has been tricky at times, especially when the news seems so consistently overwhelming. But I have learnt how to ‘go with the flow’ a little more, and pounce on inspiration when it strikes. I’ve also learnt some brand-new skills, like video editing and production, which has allowed me to explore new ways of working and flexed my creative muscles.
It’s been a hard year for the creative sector, but I’m grateful to have learnt new skills, participated in exciting projects and connected with so many lovely people. More importantly, I am grateful to all the key workers in the UK, who have ensured that our hospitals, care homes, supermarkets, post offices, healthcare, education services and other vital facilities continued to run through 2020.
I have been an artist illustrator for about 30 years or so. My work has covered a fair bit of ground from figurative to wildlife pictures and childrens’ illustrations. In a way Covid and the various lockdowns over 2020 haven’t affected my actual art making process, but it dramatically altered how I teach art and the way I make my living from art. In my pre-lockdown world, I was teaching in schools, libraries and in my own studio.
In March of last year, my conventional teaching work and face to face projects, stopped overnight. It was a heck of a shock and it profoundly changes your perception of your self-worth. How exactly do you make a living when you are not seeing people?
I had never tried teaching via video link before, and the only videos I had made before were very short promotional art videos. I am an old dog, and this was going to be a new trick. It was a very steep learning curve for me, the only equipment I had was an iPad, no editing software, and no real budget to do anything about it. I cobbled something together. I remember feeling like a door-to-door salesman, trying to push myself into any job that would have me.
I was lucky that there were a couple companies with projects that suited how I work as an artist. 20Twenty Productions CIC asked me to take part in two of their digital projects which got me started, and then later on a video link art mentoring class which I am still currently working on. In addition to that, MarketPlace offered a commission for three videos on the subject of book cover design. I loved working on that as a project and interacting with people on Facebook and Instagram.
I am profoundly grateful for all the support I received from friends, artists and arts organisations during this time.
So, what does the future look like? At this point, I feel very optimistic. We adapt, we grow and we look at new things and new ways of doing them. Teaching via Zoom is ok, but there are limitations, I know this is an area that a lot of us have struggled with, reading the body language of the people we are teaching. Video is a very interesting medium and I am going to be developing that a lot more in the coming months. All of these new tricks will form a new part of my practice, but I can’t wait to get back to face to face teaching, being back in the studio with fellow artists will be great!
I will be honest: to begin with, I didn’t miss the frantic journeys to and from the car, arms laden with P.A. equipment, with bags… bags of songbooks, bags of instruments (shakers, foot tambourines, hand bells, boomwhackers), bags of tea (3 kinds of), coffee, milk, squash (2 kinds of) and biscuits (numerous varieties). Then came the realisation that all my future work and income had gone.
Gone!
At first, I tried to continue as best I could – positively – and like so many , I spent time recording videos and posting online. I wanted to continue to reach out to the communities that I had established over the previous 4 years. I wanted them to have something to refer to – a kind of guiding light in the face of growing darkness. Listening to the birdsong in the garden, throughout last summer, I spent wondered for hours thinking about the people who I no longer saw; those with whom I no longer had a physical connection; those whose collective voices had been cruelly silenced by an unknown killer.
Unfortunately, the very nature of my work meant that not everyone could access and interact with online content. This got to me and gradually, I eased back. Sometimes, for no reason at all, I felt the unstoppable, overwhelming urge to weep, tears rolling down my cheeks with the realisation that I could not connect fully with others through the internet. I missed connecting in person: in real time. Several people who attended my groups have lost their lives since last March.
If they do return, my communities will not be as I knew them.
When lockdown eventually lifted last summer, the March Can’t Sing choir met up for several outdoor, Covid 19 secure, singing sessions. On those days, my heart burned as brightly as the summer sun and tears flowed down my cheeks, yet again, as I heard the collective voice soar as one with the buzzing bees overhead. It is something I will never forget!
People sometimes ask me why I lead people who ‘can’t sing’. Well, all I can say is that the very act of singing is a magical thing. Having a focus, having a purpose, connecting, breathing as one, having a go, laughing when things go wrong, being proud of something that you achieve, lifting depression, raising self-esteem, learning to use your body to sing, all brings people together in no other way that I know of… and it is so worth it!
As I reflect, I know that keeping my passion for singing is one thing that I will do. There is a new dawn on the horizon, yet the world on which it will shine is still uncertain. I still have my moments. I only hope that singing will rightly take its place, centre stage and re-unite communities once more.
This past year has challenged me to refresh my practice and align with new priorities. The world got into a slower gear but I felt a renewed sense of urgency for my work to be relevant and in some way useful and meaningful. For it to connect.
In ‘the age of isolation’ a priority human need surely has to be connection. We’ve all needed to reach out to others for mutual support. As a solo artist I’ve found working and connecting with communities of like minds online to be a lifeline. Virtual meet-ups, courses and skills sessions have been so valuable in helping me to meet new people, keep up to speed, deepen existing skills and, believe it or not…. get excited about the future!!
A lockdown commission opportunity with Marketplace prompted me to realise an idea which I’d had on my mental shelf for years gathering metaphorical dust. Mantelpiecewas about creating a community of voices, displaying treasured objects together – on a digital Mantelpiece – and sharing the stories they told. Mantelpiece – now in a new phase of research & development – was adapted for Marketplace to be a neat little creative conversation starter for online group work. The hope is also that the process of sharing such unique and personal stories helped to promote greater empathy, insight & understanding between the people involved.
I think that living through a pandemic has sharpened everyone’s awareness of the fragility of life. The change in pace we experienced gave us a rare chance to much more fully appreciate its beauty and constantly changing states. In the piece of work I made for The Library Presents at the end of 2020, Let the Leaves Change, I was trying to visually communicate something about the magic of late autumn / winter. With my camera and my homemade light box I got deeply into looking at the incredible and intricate detail, colours and textures appearing in the leaves and in the natural world around me. I thought about the inevitability – Covid or no Covid – of change.. of nature moving with ease and without resistance, from one season to the next.
This continuously evolving visual mix, produced by Collusion, was created to be back-projected at night into a town centre shop window in Wisbech and the library window in March. It included a layer of leaf drawings and designs made in collaboration with local communities. I really loved the raw quality achieved by mixing hand drawn and coloured leaves with layered filmed clips and I could see the potential for working more in this way….
My most recent piece of work Where Are We Now? was the product of an experimental 8-week programme, ‘Mindful Making’, designed to support adults experiencing mental health difficulties. We used a range of creative activities to explore the idea that if you immerse yourself in the creative moment you can temporarily suspend your worries & fears. Our aim was to create a relaxed, pressure-free environment and offer an open, fun and playful approach to making art. This project got very close to the heart of Unlocked Creative – encouraging people to be courageous and make instinctive decisions about what comes next. If we can let go of pre-conditioned ideas and get into the process of making something we can feel totally liberated & renewed. This is a healing, empowering and adventurous place to be that opens up all kinds of possibilities….!
As we entered lockdown in March 2020, I watched my personal plans for the year fade away with the loss of workshops, events and my first foray into participating in Cambridge Open Studios. I soon realised though that this was an opportunity to reflect on and develop my practice, and to try new ways of creating and delivering.
Lockdown offered me opportunities to explore delivering via video tutorials when Creative People and Places: MarketPlace offered me the chance to make a series of films on art journaling. I have always used recycled materials in my work and sharing ways to create with limited or no specific art materials was an enjoyable experience albeit on a steep learning curve with the video skills element!
Marian talking about using words in one of her art journaling videos.
Over the summer of 2020, I started to experiment with new techniques, things I’d wanted to try but never found the time for. Some of the many techniques I tried included eco dyeing, making charcoal, natural weaving, anthotypes, and making natural glues and inks. A lot of these techniques have helped me in my ongoing process of greening my arts practice, making it more eco-friendly, and reducing the carbon footprint of my work, materials and processes.
Marian experimenting with beetroot ink.
Marian experimenting with eco dyeing.
Another joy of lockdown was being able to attend online workshops from across the world which would not have been possible in real life. I learned about different artists, watched lectures on art history and created art in lots of different media including drawing, collage, painting, stitching, and paper folding. I have also had more time to collaborate with artists both in the UK and the USA, working on round robin altered books and collage projects.
Part of a collaborative project with a US based artist.
Lockdown has been difficult in a lot of ways, of course, and I knew making art and being creative would help me through it but I never anticipated that it would offer me so much time and space for creative exploration and learning, open new trains of thought for projects and artwork and allow me to extend my understanding of my practice and processes. Covid-19 has changed many things for me and now the world is inching towards a new normal, I find myself grateful for what the last eighteen months has taught me and given me.
On the day I spoke to David, with Marian Savill, it was the one year anniversary of the first Lockdown. Whilst it wasn’t timed to be the start of the blog series, as far as I’m aware (!), it did shape the drift of our conversation. But then again, has anyone been talking or thinking about anything other than COVID-19 for the past year? It has felt completely all encompassing, but the conversation with the three of us reminded me that taking the time for social connection can help put things into perspective.
A photo of artist Genevieve Rudd smiling with a Waveney & Blyth art trail leaflet.
As an artist, I have lots of ways to keep my mind occupied, but Lockdown has been universally energy sapping. Despite this, the lack of usual habits or access to resources gave way to inventiveness. This is something that chimed with Marian too. Both of us thrifty at the best of times, it was inspiring to hear how she also found new life for unwanted stuff, and how this connected with her wider lifestyle values around veganism and reducing waste.
Lockdown has encouraged more ‘localised’ thinking on the whole – such as doorstep clapping, mutual aid groups and window rainbows – we’ve all been forced to re-consider our relationships to our immediate environment. For many, this has been a suffocating experience, and for others, it has given a sense of freedom from their daily slog. Whatever the situation, it’s brought us all face-to-face with our own domestic reality in very close detail. For me, that detail has shown me the value in simplicity.
Marian was inspiring to talk to; I’d never heard of ‘doodads’, but she has been doing #A100DaysOfDoodads. These mini sculptural pieces are made from tomato puree tubes, scrap fabric, threads, leaves, wire, stones and all sorts of things she found around her home over the past few months! I love this ethos and in my own practice, I have been exploring approaches with foraged, edible and recycled materials, and in turn, making my practice more sustainable. This explorations have predominantly been using Cyanotype and Anthotype photography, using plants and compost from my garden.
‘Soil Circles’ 1 of 6. Cyanotype photographic print made using collected rainwater, home-made compost, recycled paper and sunlight, 5th-6th March 2021. Copyright Genevieve Rudd.
This year has been many things, but one silver lining has been the time spent exploring and treasuring the small overlooked details of life, particularly in relation to the natural world. This year, I’m running an Arts Council England funded project, Yarmouth Springs Eternal, in partnership with original projects; in Great Yarmouth. We’re nurturing relationships with the natural world found in overlooked places through walking and art-making. If there is one thing I’ll keep from this last year, it’s to embrace simplicity, and from Marian, it’s the ‘use what you already have’ mentality!
Marion Leeper reflects on her experience as a storyteller during the period of lockdown, and how she adapted the interactive fun and learning of storytelling in a playgroup setting and transferring it to online, as part of MarketPlace’s commissions programme.
The folktale heroine Molly Whuppie succeeds in her quest because she is small: she can hide in the giant’s castle without him noticing, and she can get away from him because she is light enough to cross the Bridge of One Hair. As I embarked on the lockdown journey of bringing stories to a virtual audience, I had to take a leaf out of Mollie Whuppie’s book, and make a virtue of a small screen.
The Bridge of One Hair that I’ve had to cross, with help from MarketPlace as part of their Creative Conversations in Isolation commissions, was the big move to telling stories online: how to develop appropriate work that young children can engage with through a screen: finding out what was possible for a technically limited storyteller to offer as an online experience.
A photo of Marion in a glittering tent telling a story to a group of children.
Live storytelling in the early years is a conversation. Young children respond to stories with their whole bodies: not just joining in with actions and rhymes, but pointing, laughing, moving the props around, deciding how the characters are feeling and what they had for breakfast.
If I wanted to offer young children a valuable storytelling experience, I needed to design a story that gets children moving, away from the screen. Perhaps they could be more independent, more active, than in a live session.
(Left) A photo of Marion engaging with and telling a story to a group of children on a colourful mat at a playgroup. (Right) A photo of Marion’s makeshift set at home using household objects.
Developing An Idea
I planned a story in short episodes, with a challenge or adventure to explore between each session. For instance, Molly Whuppie runs away from the giant’s castle through trees, over rocks and across a bridge. I invited the children to make their own obstacle course through, under and across. The volunteer families who tried it out found that the game kept them busy outdoors all day.
I also wanted to offer children chances to play independently – to give locked-down children and adults a break from each other. I asked the children to find treasures and put them in a ‘treasure box’ for a guessing game: some of them carried on making their own collections for days.
Getting Started
I worked with the Oasis nursery in Wisbech to try out the show using a live video call. I was pleased that the children joined in with the story and enjoyed the guessing game with the ‘treasures’ they’d brought. One child who joined from home loved seeing her nursery friends.
A screenshot image of Marion Leeper in her adventure series “Molly Whuppie and the Bridge of One Hair.”
But it was harder work keeping the children engaged and looking at a screen than live storytelling has ever been. It was also hard for families to watch live from home at a fixed time, so I set about making another change – filming a video of the story.
This was harder than it seemed. The production values that were fine for live sessions were not good enough for recorded film. Young children, used to incredibly talented film-making, from Sarah and Duck to Disney’s Frozen have such great visual literacy now, the language of close-up and long shot, soundtrack and image: they aren’t impressed by a talking head on a screen.
I struggled to learn so many skills – lighting, set-building, framing. Then my film-buddy and mentor, Inés Alvarez Villa, came on the scene. Working remotely, she patiently taught me how to focus a shot, how to film close-up sequences of props and many other skills
She edited the story, which we are launching into the world for families once more in lockdown. Perhaps it will offer them, like Molly Whuppie, a chance for a while to escape their Covid castle.
Final Thoughts
I’ve been developing my early years practice in storytelling for half a lifetime. Learning ways of telling stories online has been particularly hard for me because it felt like starting again from the beginning. But it has been a worthwhile journey. I know that online work is here to stay, I can do more things online, and they don’t take me so long, I know the limits of what I can and can’t do on my own. I’ve had to forge new ways of working with children and their parents too: what will be realistic for parents to do at home? What will make their time with their children easier and more fun, without making too much work for them?
Mollie Whuppie has gone out to many nurseries in the Fenland area, and children all over the place have been busy filling treasure boxes and building obstacle courses. One educator said: ‘The story was amazing, perfectly paced and the interactive parts just made it all the more special – so much learning available in each one!’
I feel like I’ve got safely across the bridge with my box of treasure. Now, like Molly Whuppie, I need to put on my adventure shoes and set off on the next part of the story.
