A blog about the hierarchies in our heads

Part of a series of things to pass on – thing four

Over the past few months I have been experiencing a lot of dreams about my time at Battersea Arts Centre. It’s like my brain is sorting through a filing cabinet marked Battersea.

And just in case I’ve been feeling any more confident towards the end of my time in Battersea, my dreams have been exploring all my worst vulnerabilities.

I had a dream about Dominic Cavendish – the theatre critic from The Telegraph. In this particular dream I was literally chasing Dominic across London to try and get him to come to Battersea Arts Centre.

Think low-budget Bourne Identity. But rather than saving the world – I was trying to get a review for an artist.

Everywhere I went Lyn Gardner kept popping up; telling me not to worry.

Later in the dream it became clear that Dominic had unexpectedly been to Battersea and had actually reviewed the show. I heard it had been posted on the front of the building in massive neon letters.

I doubled-back to Battersea. I could see in the distance that it had six stars showing but only stars one, two and four were illuminated.

Was this a reflection of his response to the show? Or was something wrong with the building again?!

As I stared at the neon, someone whispered in my ear that there were subliminal messages in the text of Dominic’s review.

I returned to central London – pursuing him again through the streets of London – on a quest for meaning.

Lyn continued to pop up in different guises: having lunch with Donald Hutera; working in a box office; each time she offered soothing advice.

In essence she was telling me to chill the fuck out.

Then my 1 year old son woke me up for his breakfast and I never found out what Dominic’s review actually meant.

My dream represented a whole load of weird hierarchical shit that I create around reviews, press and an anxiety to please.

I have never been much good at the press thing as an artistic director. I have always felt illegitimate in trying (and usually failing) to have conversations with critics and people whose job it is to write a running commentary about culture.

With the exception of a few people like Lyn, Susannah Clapp and Maddy Costa, who have the gift of making you feel legitimate, with anyone else, I just hear voices in my head shouting “YOU’RE TALKING SHIT – THEY DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING YOU’RE SAYING – YOU’RE NOT A REAL ARTISTIC DIRECTOR ANYWAY”.

It’s quite distracting.

This is one of the hierarchies in my head that can, if I am not careful, manage my life.

Does everyone have them?

I am reminded of Bryony Kimming’s I Am A Phoenix, Bitch in which she tells us about the middle-aged, swaggering male TV executive in her head who provides a running commentary on her work.

These hierarchies often gnaw away at our confidence – suggesting to us what we can or can’t do.

Perhaps we should all have a group workshop or something – and have a concerted go at telling them to fuck right off.

We all suffer from them don’t we? Have you got one? If so, what’s yours?

Occasionally, when I have the hierarchy in my head under control, and I am talking to a journalist, I sense that they are also listening to an internal narrative.

 “STOP TALKING TO THIS DICK, HE’S NOT MAKING ANY SENSE. IF YOU DON’T FIND A PROPER ARTIST TO WRITE ABOUT YOUR WRITING CAREER IS FUCKED.”

Try listening to Radio 4’s Saturday Review and tell me that there isn’t a producer somewhere with a voice shouting inside their head.

“YOU’VE GOT TO MAKE IT PROPER – PROPER ART – PROPER INTELLECTUAL DISCUSSION – NO COMMUNITY SHIT – ARTY ART – COME ON, GET IT TOGETHER.”Who’s the hierarchy in their head?

Dominic and I – so I am going to call mine Dominic – have had to learn to live together.

But I think it’s important that we also to learn to ignore these hierarchical influencers.

Because if we do not then – just as the dad says in Strictly Ballroom – we “live our lives in fear”.

Fear of what Dominic will say.

Fear of not living up to Dominic’s standards.

Fear of Dominic’s friends – who all agree with Dominic.  

But as well as our own mental health – I think there is also a more nuanced reason why we need to win this battle.

Something which is not about ourselves. But about everyone else.

I think the hierarchies in our heads can often reduce the world around us to a series of binary opposites.

By their very nature, hierarchies, encourage us to place one thing above another. Creating a more linear and binary world.

This might seem like a tangent – but stick with me…

Try observing the debate about the Arts Council’s evolving 10 year strategy.

It’s been interesting to see the way that a number of cultural commentators have jumped on the idea of “relevance” – and placed it in direct opposition to “excellence” or “quality”.

Perhaps this is an example of the hierarchies in their heads encouraging them to think that one thing is more important, or better, or must be prioritised, over another.

Bollocks.

Whilst our psychology might seek to reduce things to good and bad, to most and least important, to value one thing above another, the world around us operates in a different way.

Complex systems and ecologies rely on multiple things all being important at the same time.

I think the hierarchies in our heads can encourage us to miss this important fact.

So when it comes to human created things (like cultural policy!) we seek to create all kinds of unhelpful hierarchies when actually, what we really need to do, is to nurture a complex ecology.

Please can we embrace complexity? Could we stop reducing culture to series of binary opposites? Excellence or relevance? Elitism or populism? Artists or audiences? Can we stop asking questions like what comes 1st? And could we all get better at thinking how we support an ecology? https://t.co/c8ebSV2W1B— David Jubb (@davidjubb) April 15, 2019

Tweet I sent this week in response to piece in Stage

We need to get better at embracing complexity.

And getting better at ignoring the hierarchies in our heads is a step towards achieving that.

A good first step is to break down more of the hierarchies outside our heads – in the real world.  

I remember when I stopped introducing myself as “artistic director of BAC” and started to introduce myself by saying that “I work at BAC”, I found I actually had better conversations with members of the Battersea community and often with artists too.

An artist actually apologised to me the other day in case they had been weird around me over the years. (They had not.) They explained that they often find themselves being weird around artistic directors.

Ironic – and crazy – when I have always felt like an imposter artistic director.

If we all work together to break down the hierarchies in the real world it will help us all to get better at breaking down the ones in our own heads.

Let’s work together to embrace creative complexity.

I am writing a few blogs to share some of my learning as artistic director. Thing one is here and thing two is here.

I said I’d write a blog about things that have gone wrong.

I’ve only got a few days left as artistic director – and I haven’t done it yet. [Another learning point – don’t promise things you might not have time for!]

So with the clock ticking I’ll just pick a couple of proper clangers. It’s probably for the best, this blog could otherwise have become a sad litany of personal disasters – I’ll just focus on some of the bigger challenges…

Getting the programme model wrong

Back in 2005 – and then again in 2010 – we had ideas to change the programme model. Looking back, these were high-concept, top-down approaches!

In 2005 we decided to focus BAC’s work on supporting the development of producers.

In 2010 we focused on BAC’s role as a development theatre by only supporting new work by artists through scratch.

Both models were an attempt to focus on what we were funded to do.

In some ways both ideas were simply trying to admit that we did not have enough money to run an 80 room arts building – and therefore publicly state a more manageable focus.

Both ideas turned out to be disastrous.

The 2005 model didn’t get too far.

I can still remember the horror on several staff member’s faces – who were not producers – when we told them we were going to focus the organisation’s energies on the role of individual producers.

How to divide a staff team.

Fortunately we killed off the idea before it took hold. I’d hate to think how it would have gone down with artists. Or indeed audiences. ‘Yes, that’s right, the venue now exists exclusively to support producers.’ Hmm.

The 2010 idea did get off the ground.

We changed the budgets and our approach to programming. We only had artists in residence who were focussing on the development of new work through scratch.

We planned three moments each year when we would share the best of this work – and anything that did not fit in to these public moments was welcome to find an alternative home.  

We had no visiting or touring work in the building – we became a pure development house.

Within 6 months we were in financial difficulties. Footfall to the building had crashed. The creative ferment of the organisation suffered because there were less great ideas touring in to the building from outside London. And we were losing contact with our community.

Conceptually I think the idea came from a good place – and other organisations have brilliantly made versions of this kind of idea work.

But it didn’t fit well with having a massive public building. Most importantly it didn’t remember that a crucial thing we do – that we have been doing for 120 years – is to provide a home for our community.

What both these ideas have in common – is the way that they were implemented in Battersea – they were “top down” and they both came from an ideological place.

Over the years, I have learned that the best changes to our organisation have evolved democratically. They have usually been much more pragmatic – and are almost always based on people’s lived experience.

The Grand Hall fire

In 2015 our capital redevelopment of the building was nearly complete. We were enjoying some of our biggest audiences with work across the whole of the building all year round. We had launched programmes like The Agency which were helping us to think differently about our whole purpose as an arts organisation. Things felt good.

And then the fire happened.

This was the biggest challenge I dealt with in all my time in Battersea.

It was made much easier because of the incredible support we received for which we will be ever grateful – and relieved.

The thing I want to focus on here is dealing with a major incident like that – dealing with something massive that goes wrong.

Since 2015 I have been invited to engage with disaster planning conferences. This is because our response to the fire was perceived to be well managed by the people who organise disaster planning conferences.

Did you even know that disaster planning conferences existed? I didn’t.

People requested to review our Disaster Recovery Plan – the plan which had seen us through the aftermath of the fire – step by step.

Of course the reality was that we did not have a plan. I felt bad talking to disaster planning people and telling them that we didn’t have a plan. Worse still saying it out loud at disaster planning conferences. It didn’t feel respectful of what I began to realise was a whole industry of disaster planners. But it was true.

We didn’t have a document or a plan that told us what to do. But what I think we did have by 2015 was a team culture which used scratch to tackle all sorts of day-to-day challenges.

A brilliant Executive Director called Sarah Preece had encouraged us to test out a new model of project working – this was back in 2010/11. It was an organisational framework which placed scratch at the heart of everything we do.

By 2015 we were quite good at flexibly creating new projects and approaches to respond to new ideas or new challenges.

When the fire happened, we set up a “Phoenix Project team” with people from across the organisation. It sat alongside all the other project teams.

Just like with any other project, we sought to be as open as we possibly could about everything we knew at each moment of a quickly evolving situation. We also sought to be honest about the things that we didn’t know and that we were still working on.

If disaster planning people thought our response to the fire was successful, it was because we adopted a scratch approach. Just like we do with everything else.  

Dealing with things that go wrong is at the heart of the scratch process – and when it came to the aftermath of the fire – loads and loads of things kept going wrong.

Using our scratch process proved to be a really useful way of inviting everyone to be involved in the process and publically evaluating everything as we went along.

Of course, the biggest reason why we were able to respond to the disaster in the way that we did was because of the incredible support of everyone – from thousands of members of the public – to our design team and contractors – to our insurers and loss adjusters – to politicians and our local community – to journalists to artists – everyone responded in the most incredible way.

Without their support – the outcome would have been very different.

And maybe the scratch process made it a little easier for people to engage. Because rather than behave in a corporate manner and pretend we knew what we were doing – we treated each hour and each day as part of a creative process to get back on our feet.

I want to say a few words about Sarah Quelch (for some of you) and Sarah Golding (for others).

Sarah left her role yesterday as Battersea Arts Centre’s Associate Artistic Director.

I first met her back in – 1999 – this was when I became a producer for Battersea Arts Centre.

Sarah had already been working here for about twenty-five years -though she tells me she only started a few months before me -I’m not so sure.

For me, it turned out to be a meeting that set a path for my 21st century.

Sarah was BAC’s Participate Producer. I was BAC’s Development Producer.

We were both bright eyed and bushy tailed. Not quite sure what happened there.

And right from the start – we were allies.

Sarah believed in participation. And I believed in Sarah.

I even believed her anecdotes.

In those early days, I remember Sarah was always full of a tale or two.

There was the one about her time on television’s The Big Breakfast.

Oh yes, and then there was that that thing that happened, oh that was on the The Big Breakfast too.

And wait, I am remembering another story, about, er yes, it was about Gaby Roslin on the Big Breakfast.

We joined the organisation at a time when the previous artistic director used to send messages around the building by memo.

Literally printing out messages and sending them round to different departments in different rooms.

Battersea Arts Centre was the creative centre of British theatre. It was also where pigeons came to die in the courtyard.

These pigeons were probably previously employed carrying messages around the building – until the advent of memos.

Sarah and I sat next to each other in half of the New Committee room which was the producing and production office.

Later it would be occupied by such producing luminaries as Louise Blackwell, Kate McGrath, even our own Richard Dufty.

As we moved from memos to the early days of personal computers – this was when personal computers were a new phenomenon – like in the world – Battersea Arts Centre still managed to have got hold of some old shit ones. I mean how is that even possible?

In those early days of our relationship, I looked up to Sarah.

And 20 years later – I still do.

Of course there will be people who have been driven mad by Sarah.

There will also be people who have had their lives changed for the better by Sarah.

The remarkable thing is that they will probably be – in most cases – the same people.

This is because Sarah connects with people’s core.

She is one of those rare people who genuinely finds out what makes people tick.

Who genuinely cares enough to find out about someone’s inner sanctum.

And then she fucks with it!

She often helps people to see another way. A more equitable, interesting and creative way.

She has provided a springboard for so many artists, families and producers.

– From running Arts Express programmes on Saturdays

– to BAC’s youth theatre

– to BAC’s development theatre

– to BAC’s school programme

– to shaping the organisation’s entire participation strategy

– to conceiving a building wide strategy for telling the story of the building’s history

– to directing hugely innovative and successful productions

– to more recently leading the merger of Battersea Arts Centre and Wandsworth Museum and leading the creation and strategy for the BAC Moving Museum

– to being there on the night of the fire and buying every staff member a drink and being our leader in our hour of need

Her theatre shows – including The Good Neighbour, Town Hall Cherubs, and Return to Elm House – have all been as formally innovative as they have been bloody good fun.

When I was watching Sarah Golding’s final show as Associate Artistic Director which was about unsung Jeannie Nassau Senior, I sat here in the Council Chamber noting some of the comparisons with Sarah’s own journey.

– someone who seems to have lived here forever

– someone who has NOT been fully recognised for their massive contribution – in Sarah’s case to arts and culture in Battersea and the UK

– someone who changes people’s lives for the better and who makes a positive difference

I wonder if in 50 year’s time someone at BAC will be making a show called Return to Golding Towers?

I won’t say I’m going to miss you Sarah. Because I’m buggering off soon too. And I know we’ll stay well connected as pals outside of these four walls.

But I would like to truly thank you Sarah for being a friend, a collaborator, a change maker and someone who leaves their mark and their values on this building and this organisation.

You leave it and us in better shape than you found us.

And when you think about – that’s not something you can say about a lot of leaders in this world.

Sarah you are amazing.

I know of no other human being who has taken over their own leaving party, buddied up with the Beatbox Academy and smashed out an awe-inspiring rendition of Madness’s OUR HOUSE – adapted to “Elm House” of course.

Sarah you are a very special phenomenon and I am so, so lucky to have had the opportunity to work with you.

This is what I said…

Creativity is a superpower – and it’s democratic.

You don’t have to own a cape.

Everyone has access to their own supply.

Our creativity enables us to see things and do things differently.

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The thing I value most about this democratic superpower is that it is subversive.

It can challenge the status quo – it can disrupt and agitate – it can question orthodoxy and hierarchy.

And it often does – from the periphery – from the outside. 

But what if we connected human creativity with power and policy?

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My proposal is that we set up a network of citizen assemblies which take a creative approach.  

The idea would be to bring together communities and teams from local and central government. 

Creatively. And collaborate to co-create policy.

Across multiple areas, from education to health to housing.

_

Because why does most policy development exclude the people whose lives it affects?

Why isn’t policy development more human-centred and iterative?

Why isn’t policy development more creative: working in partnership with communities to co-conceive, test out (scratch!) and shape policy?

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So quick summary:

1. I think the most extraordinary value of human creativity – that we should embrace rather than fear – is that it’s subversive.

2. I think the most tactical application of everyone’s creativity in government would be to set up assemblies in which communities can co-create policy and connect to power. 

3. I think artists, producers and others working in creative fields might be up for facilitating or supporting the assemblies which might just drive a creative revolution led by communities.

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Together we could democratise the way we policy is developed and delivered. The assemblies could be open, public forums – perhaps based in community and cultural centres across the country.

As more people use their creativity to become co-creators of policy – rather than passive recipients of policy – we will create energy and agency. 

And I believe if these assemblies are creative in their approach then it is very likely that the co-created policies will also be more creative than what we have now.

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And what better time to launch a programme of citizen-led creative change at a time when our political system is experiencing long-term distrust and decline?

Creative citizen assemblies could help to ensure that our political system is not overwhelmed by people who promise easy and often hateful answers to complex problems.

Instead, communities could lead a creative revolution – co-creating the future.

I am writing a few blogs to share some of my learning as artistic director – the whole thing has been a bit of a Scratch. Thing one is here

Thing two relates to when I started as artistic director of battersea arts centre in 2004.  

But it also relates to anyone who has ever wanted to be good at something.

I used to measure my own failure using the same ruler that was used to measure the success of the previous artistic director.

In other words, in all the ways he was good, I was crap.

It took me a couple of years of being crap and miserable to understand that I needed to change the bloody ruler!

I needed to stop being an inferior version of someone else and start being me.

Looking back this sounds so obvious. But at the time I couldn’t see it.

As a result, I remember doing a lot of hiding. I got to know all the toilets around the building really well.

(And yes, this might well have been one of the motivations behind undertaking a capital project. Shy people deserve clean toilets to hang out in.)

As time went on, it got more serious.

Within a year, after a bad set of reviews for a show, I found myself lying on a bed in an A&E department, in a London hospital, hooked up to a heart monitor.

It is stressful trying to be someone else every day.

I think a turning point was when BAC’s Chair at the time, Nick Starr, pulled me aside after a Board meeting. I thought I might get fired. It was almost a relief.

“David” he said “you know, you really don’t have to be so sensible all the time.”

It was revelatory.

I was so desperately trying to be something I wasn’t that I was tying myself up in knots.

The person who appointed me, BAC’s Chair, had just told me to chill the fuck out!

It helped me to unwind a bit – and gradually I started to be me.

More than a decade later – over the last month – I have lost count of the number of people who have said to me “big shoes to fill”.

They are referring to the challenge for the next artistic director of battersea arts centre. 

While this is intended as a complement – my honest response is “absolute bollocks”.

The first thing the new artistic director of BAC should do is throw away any vestige of my shoes (I only have one pair anyway, so I am taking them with me) and focus on their own approach.

My advice to anyone is to lead in your way.

Because when you spend time trying to be someone  or something else – you stop developing – you stop growing – and you waste energy.

By 2006 I had started to learn to be myself in the job.

Reassuringly – when I started being me – things went from bad to worse…

Around Christmas 2006 we received a letter from the local council saying we had to meet a £375k demand with three months’ notice or we were out. Season’s greetings!

But the difference was that when this latest disaster happened, I didn’t try to manage it by attempting to be someone else.

The only way to cope in life is to be you.

In “thing three” I will write up some of the car-crashes – from funding disasters – to changing the programme model – to the fire in the Grand Hall – because some of most important learning happens when things go wrong.

It’s time for me to bugger off and let someone else have a go at running this fantastic, optimistic and creative organisation.

I’m heading off to grow children and vegetables. Until they start school. (The children.)

I have a fantasy that I will write something about creativity & change in quiet moments. My amazing partner seems to be able to look after children and achieve more incredible things at the same time.

In reality, I expect to be total shit at this. I suspect writing something will always come second to cyclical, fetishistic tidying, being knackered and watching box-sets I have missed over last 15 years.

Anticipating this upcoming domestic/professional fail, over the remaining 7 months of working in Battersea, I will share bits of my learning as artistic director – the whole thing has been a bit of a scratch!

It’s an odd job as artistic director, especially when you’re not an artist. I have spent lots of time (most of the time) worrying about the expectations other people have of me – or experiencing their projections of my identity through the job title.

Gradually, I have built confidence to just be myself in the job.

So in an effort to demystify the artistic director role – and the chief executive role – and pass stuff forward to a younger generation of better artistic directors in Battersea and beyond – I thought I’d try and pass some things on.

So – thing one – is an easy one to start with today.

Don’t take credit for things you didn’t actually do.

I’m starting with this one today – because it’s easy when artistic directors leave organisations for the Board of those organisations – and even the staff – to refer to the achievements of the artistic director.

The reality is that other staff did all this stuff. Let alone the artists or partners or members of the community or volunteers (like trustees) who actually created and made stuff happen.

Today, for example, on BAC’s statement about searching for a new AD, there is a bunch of stuff that other people have led.

I thought, for the record, I would make a note of who actually did all that stuff – to make the point – see bottom of this blog.

And of course the list I have put together below is not even a real representation of all the artists, freelancers, theatre technicians, marketeers, account managers, duty managers etc. who actually made all this stuff happen.

I think creativity thrives on accountability rather than hierarchy.

Everyone contributes stuff from their perspective – ideas emerge and get stronger because people see things and do things from their perspective.

One of the things I think we need to get much better at – in cultural organisations – is to spend less time talking about the artistic director as if they are the person who make things happen.

It’s just not real.

It makes the artistic director feel weird. And it’s just not true.

An artistic director’s job is to help other people make things happen.

I think if we recognised the creativity of the collective – rather than over-egging the contribution of one leader – then our organisations might achieve a lot more.

When an organisation has a big ego, it’s also generally less good at collaborating.

I say this as someone who knows that when my ego has got in the way, over the past decade or so, then everything fucks up.

When we recognise that leadership comes from every person – not from a small collection of people – we’re likely to create more productive cultural organisations.

Thing two to follow in coming weeks…

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– agreement of a 125 year lease on Battersea’s former Town Hall – Nick Starr our previous Chair led this negotiation with Eddie Lister at the council, who had faith, and they cracked this one together working with David Micklem and Rosie Hunter and loads of people from the Battersea and Council teams to prepare the lease

– the restoration of the building in partnership with Haworth Tompkins – obviously Steve Tompkins has created lots of the design, but so has Toby Johnson, Joanna Sutherland, Imogen Long, Martin Lydon and lots of other members of the Haworth Tompkins team, and from the Battersea team there have been so many key who have developed and delivered ideas including Greg Piggot, Richard Couldrey,  Tref Davies, Scott MacColl, Georgina Parker, Thea Jones, loads more staff, Punchdrunk, Gary Campbell and Jeannine Inglis-Hall, Kirsty Harris, and literally hundreds of other artists who have transformed the building, space by space

– a £26mill investment – this money has been raised by people with good ideas like Tim Burley, Kane Moore, Celine Gagnon, Jo Hunter, Sarah Golding, with Rebecca Holt leading BAC’s relationship with Aviva with incredible skill and savvy, David Baker from Aviva ensuring we were able to get a payout to restore the Grand Hall and Lower Hall, and members of our Board like Bruce Thompson and a very skilled group of practitioners guiding us through, along with trustees who have helped raise more funds

– commissioning/co-producing with artists – this one refers to lots of artists who have been successful out of BAC – it’s worth noting how these artists were invited to BAC and worked with at BAC – such as 1927 who Lynette Moran first noticed in an Apples and Snakes night and then Shelley Hastings closely with for a number of years; Nic Green – Shelley Hastings and Richard Dufty; Taylor Mac – Shelley Hastings; Punchdrunk – Laura McDermott, now at Attenborough Centre, produced Masque of Red Death; Polarbear –Richard Dufty, Sarah Golding and Rosie Scudder; Kate Tempest – Sophie Bradey produced Brand New Ancients; Inua Ellams – Richard Dufty and of course before she left to set-up Fuel, Kate McGrath; Paper Cinema – Liz Moreton, Richard Dufty and Rosie Scudder; Little Bulb – Liz Moreton and Richard Dufty; Kneehigh – Shelley Hastings and Sophie Bradey; Dead Centre and Chris Thorpe/Rachel Chavkin – Shelley Hastings; Amy Leon and Bryony Kimmings – Bethany Haynes; Touretteshero – Sophie Bradey introduced them to BAC and worked with them before she became a freelance producer.

– merger with Wandsworth Museum and the creation of the new BAC Moving Museum with new national programmes such as Creative Museums – this was led by Rebecca Holt, Sarah Golding and Bethany Haynes, including Sue Walker who worked at Wandsworth Museum and Michelle Welbourn, and lots of trustees for both organisations, like Michael Day, our chair, working out how to make it work, and supported by Lucy Parker

– the Scratch Hub as a home for the creative industries – led by Liz Moreton, designed and created Gary Campbell and Jeannine Inglis-Hall, now led by Maddie Wilson and her team

– Create Course – created by Maddie Wilson, Lara Taylor, Marina Sacco and Meg Peterson

– Agents of Creative Change – created by Lara Taylor, Liz Moreton and Meg Peterson

– Local Roots programme – led by Miriam Sherwood, Maddie Wilson and Liz Moreton

– Homegrown – been led by Liz Moreton, with amazing team members and freelancers like Lara Taylor, Fiona Sowole, Bethany Haynes and Tobi Kyeremateng

– BAC Beatbox Academy – whose director is Conrad Murray and who have been supported by Liz Moreton, Lara Taylor, Fiona Sowole

– The Agency – which has been led by Liz Moreton, Roisin Feeny, Catherine Nicholson

– Family Saturdays – which have been led by Sophie Bradey, Reena Kalsi, Sarah Golding and many others

– The Bee’s Knees – which has been hosted by Elaine Jordan, and led by Sarah Golding, and Sophie Bradey, Jessie Wylde and Leanda Linton

– Collaborative Touring Network – has been led by Katie Roberts, Katie Duffy, Rosie Scudder, Katie Croft, Nassy Konan and Christie Hill and all the partners around the country

– A Nation’s Theatre with the Guardian – which was led by Maddie Wilson and Richard Dufty and lots of members of the wider team especially Layla El-Deeb

 – Co-Creating Change network – which has been led by Liz Moreton, working with Maddie Wilson and Miriam Sherwood

– Live From Television Centre and Performance Live with BBC – which has been led by Thea Jones, working with TV producer Andrew Fettis and supported by Maddie Wilson

– the Up Next project with Bush Theatre and Artistic Directors of the Future which has been shaped and led by Reena Kalsi, Rebecca Holt, Rosie Scudder, Lara Taylor and Fiona Sowole.

– the Relaxed Venue project a partnership with Touretteshero which has been led and supported by Shelley Hastings, Michelle Welbourn, Ralph Thompson and others 

-The establishment of an Artists Sounding Board representing the interests of artists in the governance of BAC – Richard Dufty, Rosie Spiegelhalter and Charlotte Turton

– One-on-One festivals – which have been curated by Richard Dufty, Bethany Haynes with lots of members of the producing team

– The Good Neighbour – which was led by Sarah Golding and Bethany Haynes and Richard Dufty

– London Stories festivals – led by Richard Dufty with the help of Ralph Thompson

– growing the organisation’s commercial income streams – which have been led by Andrew Bishop, Tanith Lindon and Rebecca Holt and many others

– reorganising its organisational structure to create a less hierarchical and more diverse model of project working – this idea was led by Sarah Preece, now Exec Director at Mountview, who had the idea, scratched it and saw it through, and continues, championed by Rebecca Holt the staffing team and Joanne Irvine – and working to renew how we communicate with the world and creating a cohesive visual language, our website and branding – have been led by Emma Power, Katie Elston, Layla El-Deeb and lots of team members, and Jake Tilson and many other artists and makers

..and as I said earlier – all the teams that that lead, every day, on delivering all the aspects of our programme, too many to mention individually here –our BO, Front of House , Welcome, production and technical teams, events, catering and volunteers.

I hope the Grand Hall will be celebrated when it re-opens on 6^th September. I am obviously a bit biased but I think the renewal of the Hall is very special. Haworth Tompkins Architects are very clever people and hundreds of people have fed in to the process. Walking in to that room now simply takes your breath away.

But beneath the Grand Hall there is another story brewing – which I think might go on to set the agenda for Battersea Arts Centre in decades to come. Perhaps even more than what happens in the Grand Hall?

The new Battersea Arts Centre Scratch Hub opens its doors on 17^th September. It is a new co-working space for start-up businesses, growing enterprises and social entrepreneurs. It takes its name from Battersea Arts Centre’s Scratch process because the space is set up to encourage residents to test, develop and grow ideas.

We are carefully curating the membership of the Scratch Hub so that we nurture a diverse community for sharing skills, for being a source of feedback for one another and for sparking new connections and collaborations.

Memberships are structured flexibly to suit different needs and budgets, including unlimited and flexible hot-desking and a small number of fixed desks. There are also free Springboard memberships to support some great local projects and businesses which we think can make Wandsworth, and the world, a better place.

I think the potential connections between a cultural centre like Battersea Arts Centre and dozens of small enterprises working in the creative industries is incredibly exciting. Weirdly, I think it’s quite a rare thing You have great cultural centres in London. And great co-working spaces. But where do you have both? And I think the potential is massive.

Battersea Arts Centre works with hundreds of creative artists every year and hosts hundreds of events. It has dozens of creative spaces and a national and international reputation for developing new ideas.

We think this is a highly fertile environment for growing businesses. We’re especially interested to offer memberships to those who have an interest in making a positive difference in their community.

We are developing the space to suit different needs with a relaxing apartment, a quiet working library and a creative space for collaboration.

The architectural design and infrastructure has been put in place by Haworth Tompkins and the interior and furniture design has been created by Jeannine Inglis-Hall and Gary Campbell.

Members also have access to Elm House – a new events space right at the front of the building. We hope this enables members to connect with the thousands of people who walk in the front doors of the building every month.

We want to create a dynamic community with people from different backgrounds, sectors and with a range of experiences. So if you’re just starting out – or established with lots to share – if you’re committed to having a positive impact – and want to be part of an active community – then this could be for you.

Members will be able to exchange skills through a time-banking scheme, attend free talks and workshops to encourage collaborations and co-learning, and have a say in running your own events and how the Scratch Hub operates. You even get discounts on tickets to shows at Battersea Arts Centre.

We want the Scratch Hub to be the creative environment which gives you the confidence to take risks and to grow your business. Battersea Arts Centre has always been a developer of new ideas and supported great talent. And I think it will be the members of the Scratch Hub who are making the headlines in years to come.

There are a limited number of memberships so if you are interested, get in touch soon to find out more. If you want to express your interest then visit www.bac.org.uk/scratchhub

Photograph by Manuel Vason

The Story Behind The Picture

David Jubb, Artistic Director, Battersea Arts Centre

On Friday 13^th March 2015, the Grand Hall of Battersea’s former Town Hall, home to Battersea Arts Centre, was destroyed by fire. In the days, weeks and months which followed, the public’s response was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

People were thoughtful and generous, both with their resources and their imaginations. People came together to selflessly help out a group of people, a building and an organisation in need.

The rebuild and renovation, brick by brick, has taken over three years. On Friday 13^th July 2018 we will invite people back in to the renewed Grand Hall – for an early glimpse of the restoration.

We will also launch a countdown to the official re-opening in September and our five month long Phoenix Season.  We are so thankful to thousands and thousands of people and organisations who have supported this story of rising from the ashes.

When we were planning a celebratory event for Friday 13^th July we decided to take a commemorative photo at the front of the building – with members of our community.

We wanted to champion the principles which have enabled the organisation to get back on its feet. So we devised a photograph of our friends coming together, pictured with our collective values.

When we heard that President Trump was also visiting the UK on 13^th July, we looked at the values we were seeking to celebrate – which have characterised the 125 year history of Battersea’s former Town Hall. We felt that they were in contrast with some of the values which President Trump’s leadership has come to represent.

“Not for me, Not for you, But for Us” is Battersea’s mid-19^th century motto and is one of Battersea Arts Centre’s core values. We think it captures a spirit of generosity and shared endeavour.

We believe in building connections across communities to bring people together. We believe in the power of love and unity to make positive change. We believe in the central and powerful role of women to make the world a better place. We believe that art is a force for good and that everyone is creative.

Because President Trump is coming to the UK on the same day as we re-open the Grand Hall, we thought we would address our optimistic set of messages to one of the world’s most important leaders.

When our community assembled for the photograph, including members of our social dance class, our beatbox academy, young creative entrepreneurs, volunteers, artists and staff, there was a palpable and positive sense of a community coming together. Not to protest or to be angry on this occasion. But to champion the things which we care deeply about.

We offer our collective photograph as a positive and inclusive message. We welcome everyone to Battersea Arts Centre who shares our optimism about what we can achieve when we work together.

We are inspired today by those who have gone before us in Battersea. The house which stood on Lavender Hill, prior to the construction of Battersea’s Town Hall, was called Elm House. A woman called Jeanie Nassau Senior lived in Elm House.

She was the country’s first female civil servant, she developed the idea of foster care and her motto at Elm House was “come to us”. What would Jeanie have to say to us today in 2018?

We think she would be filled with hope in terms of the way people have responded to the fire at Battersea Arts Centre. And we want to carry her productive legacy forwards.

We are excited that on Friday 13^th July we will offer a first glimpse of the renewed Grand Hall rebuilt by the strength of people coming together, built on the land on which Elm House once stood.

This first event is just one small part of a wider plan to say thank you to members of the public for their incredible support, their generosity and love, in helping the arts centre get back on its feet.

There are 10 free “Phoenix Events” over the coming months and over 2,000 x £1 tickets for our local community. We hope you will join us: to find out more visit http://bac.org.uk/phoenix

Full resolution image can be downloaded here

At the end of 2017 I blogged about cultural centres as community centres. Since then it’s been great to connect with lots of different practitioners and organisations who are co-creating work in different ways.

The original blog set out a case for co-creating work and for the existence of a network to bring together people, nationally and internationally, who are working in this territory.

Happily, since that blog, the idea of a practice-focussed network has been supported by Arts Council England and the Gulbenkian Foundation – big thanks to them. The resulting network will be called Co-Creating Change and we are talking with others to support specific activities of the network.

This second blog is intended to provide an update on Co-Creating Change and more detail. It includes further thoughts in response to all the contact I have had with people since the earlier blog. It is also intended as a companion piece to go with our callout for the network. Beware, it’s very long, and gets quite geeky – the whole second half is about a single idea which has cropped up in conversation which I am keen to get your thoughts on. But first up, stuff about the network structure…

Network aims

We are not seeking to duplicate what is already out there with Co-Creating Change. The idea, at the moment, is to work together to achieve five practical things:

1. Support the development of up to 10 (new or existing) co-created projects and/or co-created methodologies – with a commissioning pot of £120,000
2. Support a number of these projects or methodologies to “tour” nationally and/or internationally with multiple partners (this will be subject to securing funding)
3. Support the network to share skills and knowledge in co-created practice and develop a culture of professional development in this territory
4. Host an annual marketplace of co-created practice with the idea of growing opportunities to “tour” methodologies, nationally and internationally
5. Work together to advocate for a better understanding and appreciation of co-created practice both in the arts sector and beyond

These things will continue to evolve as the network grows and is influenced by the individuals and organisations who join it and determine its direction.

Our ultimate ambition is to enable co-created practice to be better understood, funded and championed.

We especially want funders to be better at supporting it, journalists to write about it more, and communities to know how to make it happen or to demand it. So there will be a strong advocacy element to the work of the network.

Network structure and decisions

We want the structure of the network to be transparent – so it’s clear how and when decisions are made – and by whom.

For example, we do not think we should make the choice of what does and does not get commissioned – so this will sit with an independent panel – meaning our role can be about supporting network members.

The current network structure is described below. Again, we expect this will evolve over time as more people get more involved and change it. It has already changed quite a bit. We currently think there will be four key decision making and support groups – as follows

I hope this overview is a helpful insight in to the current thinking for the network structure. It probably raises as many questions as it answers – but hopefully it enables you to respond with thoughts, ideas or questions which will help to develop the structure and relationships.

We use scratch for developing new ideas – and so the above structure represents the latest scratch of how the network will be structured. We are putting it out there for feedback – so we can continue to refine it in response to feedback and good ideas.

A note on the commissioning process

OK, so this is the geeky bit now – we think that one inevitable and important question for the network is how we define “co-creation”.

I was surprised to get over 150 responses to the original blog which I think illustrates a passion and interest in co-creation. However, I was also surprised that a few of the responses described a co-created project or process which sounded like a conventional participatory project – in which people were invited to join in with the work of an artist or organisation – in which co-creation simply meant inviting people to contribute to the creation of a show.

But who had power or control in this process? Who said it would be a show in the first place? Who invited who to do what? Who made key decisions in the process? Who controlled resources? Who ended up owning the work that came out the other side?

Of course the answer to these questions is often hard to reach without a deep understanding of someone’s work. They are often buried in day-to-day process and relationships. Even so, some of the exchanges I’ve had have made me question how we define co-creation for this specific network. Because if the focus of the network is too broad – in other words, if it tries to be all things to all people – then might it fail to achieve the five ambitions set out above? – because it becomes too diluted to be useful?

We have been thinking about what this means both for the membership of the network – and more especially, the criteria for commissions.

Network criteria

We think that network membership should be open to any individual or organisation who is passionate about co-created practice. Our criteria for selection for the network will not be about length of track record or perceptions of sector status – instead we will use a practical set of criteria which will seek to ensure:

• a variety of different approaches to co-creation
• a range of different creative disciplines represented
• a diversity of practitioners and organisations
• a geographic spread of members
• a genuine passion for this territory

We also think that the network will grow over time – so rather than sign up 60 members from the off we think it might be better to sign up a smaller number – who can get to know each other – and enable the network to grow gradually.

The idea is not to create a closed group – and network events will be open to guests and potential future members – so it grows over time and follows the interests, passions and concerns of network members.

Commissions criteria

OK so this is the geeky bit of the blog which serves as a record of our latest thinking on the funding for co-creation projects.

We are currently thinking that we should ask applicants to do a self-assessment on what they mean by “co-creation”. (This will be one of the first things that network members look at, tear apart and put back together again!) This is where we’re at now – at scratch stage:

We will ask applicants for funding to assess who has agency in their proposed project? – who has control? – who has power? – and we will ask the independent panel to make their own assessment of this as one of the key criteria for choosing commissions.

This idea has sprung out of various conversations with people to date – and it would good to hear your reactions – whether that is excitement, frustration, caution or something else entirely.

This is the lengthiest section of this blog – but I think the resulting process is quite simple – so stick with it if you can – we really want to hear what you think. This is not an urgent request because we have plenty of time to work through this – but we are putting this out there now because it might help you work out whether this network might – or might not – be interesting to you.

Who has agency in any project?

The person or people leading a project have often conceived some of the project’s parameters and may have decided how aspects of the project are structured. They may have secured money and space to make the project happen – and they are likely to define the nature of any invitation which welcomes more people to the project.

In other words, this individual, group or community, who have been involved in setting aspects of the project up, are likely to experience high levels of agency – they are likely to feel that they can take action and successfully affect change in the project. They have a high level of control and power. (This is what the Kings University report on Cultural Democracy calls “social freedom”.)

Of course, many projects in the subsidised arts sector are not set up by individuals, groups or communities – they are often initiated, set up and run by artists, producers and / or cultural organisations.

So perhaps a useful question we can ask ourselves, when it comes to projects which begin in this way, is how much agency does the individual, group or community have in the project? And how much does the artist, producer or cultural organisation have?

Of course not every project model neatly fits in to having people you can define as the “individual, group or community” and the “artist, producer or cultural organisation”.  Some of the most exciting work happens when these boundaries are blurred, when people’s identities cannot be simply defined, and when there are multiple partners.

However, many projects still fit these profiles, at their inception. For example, even when there are multiple partners, often those partners tend to fit, at the beginning of a project, one of the two profiles I am suggesting – i.e. either “individual, group or community” or “artist, producer or cultural organisation”. So I am going to go with this split, for now, as a working assumption.

An agency scale

We have been wondering whether it is possible to have some kind of scale or spectrum to understand how much agency either party has in any specific project? So at one end of the scale you might have projects where the control and power sits, largely, with the individual, group or community – and at the other end of the scale there will be projects where the control and power sits with the artist, producer and / or cultural organisation. And some where it is somewhere in between.

I did say this was going to get geeky!

The idea of having a scale like this would not be to say that one position on the scale is better than any another. Because work and partnerships exist for different reasons and can be successful in very different ways. So an agency scale would not exist in order to make a value judgement on practice.

But it might ensure that when we are debating and developing practice, we can be clearer about whether that practice exists in the same territory or not.

I often think that discussions about participatory work (or work with communities or socially engaged practice or whatever you want to call it) are dogged with this particular challenge. Because we often bring together a vast umbrella of participatory practice and expect to be able to draw parallels and share learning. But sometimes we’re comparing apples with pears. Because the work is set up so differently and with such different motivations. Sometimes we end up arguing about those motivations rather than having the intended conversation about how we work together to grow this area of practice and support each other to further develop it.

So perhaps something like an “agency scale” could ensure we are clear about the nature of the work we are discussing?

For Co-Creating Change we are especially interested in work where agency is shared. And just to re-emphasise, this is not to say that work where the agency sits either with the artist/producer/organisation or with the individual/group/community is any less valuable. We are simply trying to be clear about a particular kind of co-created practice which we are interested to support and promote.

We are especially interested in work in which agency, control and power is shared because we think this approach encourages a particular form of collaboration which can change the practice, outlook and future of both parties – which we think is interesting.

So if there was a tool to enable us to, roughly, assess a spectrum of agency, control and power, in any project, we think it might help identify what is a good fit for a Co-Creating Change commission and what is not – in a more transparent and open way – using an assessment tool which can be conducted by the person who is actually proposing the commission.

So we have been developing and testing a model for this which is described below – it’s a scratch of an “agency scale”.

Of course the proposed tool will not straightforwardly apply to every project – because there are so many different elements and layers to every project. I guess our question is whether this assessment tool could apply to enough projects to be helpful? Or not?

The draft tool asks you ten questions and shouldn’t take any more than five to ten minutes to complete. [Please remember, this is just an idea for how we might inform the selection of commissions – no need to fill this out now – we’re just interested to get your take on whether this is an interesting or a terrible idea.]

The sections are divided in to two sections.

1. Set-up. The first section asks five questions which relate to your project framework – about the way your project is initially set up. In some cases it might be best to apply these questions to your project methodology. Or in other circumstances (where, for example, the organisation is the project) it might be about applying these questions to how your organisation is set up. Either way, these questions are basically about the project set-up – whatever that means for you.
2. Activity. The second section asks five questions which relate to the actual work itself – this is less about the set-up and more about when something is actually being made. In most cases it will be best to apply these questions to the project activity – this can, of course, include the process you’re using to make stuff, as well as the actual product or thing is made – whatever that means for you.

Not every project will fall neatly in to “set-up” and “activity” so the table gives some room for notes. Each question asks you to assess whether the artist, producer and cultural organisation (A/P/CO) has more authority to make decisions or whether the individual, group or community (I/G/C) has more authority to make decisions – by using a broad percentage split.

Here’s a blank of the table with completion instructions beneath. And below this are a couple of examples which I have filled for projects which happen at Battersea Arts Centre.

Completion instructions:

1. Answer each question by giving a % score for “Artist/Producer/Cultural Organisation” and for “Individual/Group/Community”
2. Most answers will add up to 100% unless there is a third party involved. Perhaps just use – 0%, 25%, 50%, 75%, 100% to keep things simple.
3. Don’t spend too long on each question – just answer it instinctively with what you think is a true reflection of the relationship.

And then, if the overall weighting works out as more than 60% one way or another then perhaps we could say the project is led by that party and if it’s somewhere in between then it is shared?

I have done two examples for two projects which happen at Battersea Arts Centre to give it a go.

Homegrown show – a participation project where we invite young people to come and make a show with an artist

The Agency – a project which invites young people to set up their own project or business

What do you think? Is there some value in having something like this Agency Scale – self-assessed – as part of the commissioning process?

Just to restate, there is no value judgement here. For example, whilst the power and control of the Homegrown terms sits largely with BAC, I think these projects have massive value and can change lives. The idea of the Agency Scale is simply so we can be more honest about what we are actually doing and how we are going about it and have better conversations.

So when we ask people to pitch for funding in the Co-Creating Change network – should we ask them to check where their project sits on this Agency Scale? Or a better version of this? Let us know your thoughts.

I have also had a go at assessing the way we’re (currently) setting up the Co-Creating Network – and I have just marked where we don’t know the answers to the questions yet!

If you are interested in getting involved in the network, there is a simple expression of interest form on our website. Thanks for reading.

• Participatory art
• Social art
• Socially engaged practice
• Community art
• Collaborative art
• Activist led art
• Co-design
• Co-Production
• Co-Creation
• And so on.

It is interesting that we invent so many names for our work which emphasise the importance of process.

It’s like we are super-keen to point out just how important the process is – in case anyone is in doubt.

And frankly, we’re right to be a bit over-zealous about this.

As a whole, the wider arts sector, focuses on product.

The distribution of a thing for people to consume.

Even the fact that we sometimes call ourselves a sector, betrays an industrial mind-set.

It is striking – that for a group of people who work with human imagination and relationships – that our commissioning models, our distribution models and our funding models owe more to manufacturing than to creative process.

The very fact that when it comes to resources – our model generally favours organisations the artists – those who often lead the creative process – is another sign, that we’ve got things – the wrong way round.

We’ve got stuck in a product-based mind-set – in terms of the way we measure our work.

What is the product? How many people were involved in the creation of the product? How many people will see the product? How will we measure people’s responses to the product? How will we cost the distribution of the product? How will we digitally share the product?

–

I am not saying that either the product – or these questions – don’t have some value. It’s just odd that we are generally less confident about describing the potential of creative process and relationships.

Dear artist, producer or cultural organisation, thank you for applying to our innovation fund. Please could you set out the outcomes of your innovation before you have developed it? Tell us what is new about your project.

To which the only authentic answer can be – I don’t bloody know yet.

We have let product rule over process. And we are not alone.

Education, the process of learning, the process of discovery and the process of transformation, has also largely, become obsessed with results.

Simplistic debates about the measurement of knowledge are prioritised – over more complex discussions about pedagogy or process.

How many articles have you read recently about what we should be teaching children – rather than how we could be teaching children?

It’s true in our territory too – we seem hardwired to think about, write about, report about, what we do, rather than the way that we do it.

And as a result, I think we are more comfortable talking about outcomes rather than what it means to be a in a creative process.

–

There are lots of things about this – that are really odd – when you think about it.

Not least because on an individual level – most people in this room, most people who work across the arts, would speak – passionately – about the fact that people’s lives change – not because of something they buy or receive – but because of a process they are engaged with – because of a process in which they have agency.

–

Though when we talk about process – or we champion process – it often feels like swimming against a tide.

The whole ocean seems to be going in a different direction.

However, the very fact that today is happening, a day long-debate about process-based approaches and relationships.

Not bolted on to the main agenda for balance – but the agenda – suggests, just maybe, that the tide could turn.

–

We have been thinking about this in Battersea. After a couple of years in my role, I found the model of our producing team, which was divided in to a “theatre department” and a “participation department” – increasingly problematic:

• It augmented a deep-seated hierarchy across our organisation – people would regularly refer to the theatre programme as the “main programme”. 10 years later – I reckon this has only just stopped happening.
• Also, the model of inviting people to participate in our work felt really problematic – hey, we make theatre in a particular way, would you like to come and join in with us? The invitation was limiting in terms of the people who we were connecting with – but also limiting artistically – it was an invitation to our party on our terms with our rules.

As a consequence of this division in the producing team, it felt like we, as an organisation, were set up for people who were already interested in what we did.

So we changed our structure – to change the nature of the invitation.

We began by bringing these two teams together. So that all producers were expected to work across all of our activity – from programming festivals to working in schools to partnering with community groups.

It’s a no brainer – it’s how artists usually work.

I sometimes think organisations have only created departments and management structures to control resources – in the image of an industrial model.

It’s often not helpful to the creative process.

In Battersea I think we were structured in a way which was systematically excluding large parts of our community.

Gradually realising this has gradually led to a change in the core purpose of our organisation.

From this.

TO INVENT THE FUTURE OF THEATRE

Which if you think about, is quite proudly industrial.

To this.

Which better reflects, I think, a creative process we are interested in – which is ongoing – and without end.

Our purpose, now, is simply a reflection of our process, Scratch.

We use Scratch process to make new shows, to kick start new programmes, to change our structure, to re-imagine our building, and so on.

We don’t always use it as methodically as this diagram might suggest – it is more of a mind-set and regular kick-up the arse to make sure we’re actually listening to people – rather than making decisions ourselves.

Whilst it’s a long journey we are on, ultimately it is a simple change we are trying to achieve.

To work with more members of our community as artists, protagonists, leaders, rather than as participants to be included or worse still, rescued.

_

An international perspective has also informed this shift.

Especially, several trips to Brazil. We experienced the work of:

• Practitioners like Faustini in Rio – who used his creative process as an artist to support the development of other people’s ideas (Olivia from Contact will talk about The Agency in the next session)
• And Buildings like SESCs – which rather than deliver the arts to people – appear to host multiple process-based activities to bring people together – whether that isz a game of drafts or football, a library to share ideas, wellbeing programmes, even a dentists or a huge public café subsidised by local businesses – the successful SESCs are cultural community centres.

These distinctively Brazilian approaches – ensure people are culture.

Rather than culture just being a product which people consume at 7:30 in the evening with a drink in hand.

As we have gradually become more confident with a process-based approach in Battersea,  so we have begun to wonder what we could learn from the creative process-based approaches of other artists and organisations.

There is an amazing creative programme in this building called Young Carers.

Imagine being 16 years old and spending several hours of your day, every day, looking after a parent or sibling.

Add that to your school day and what’s left? When do you find time to be you? And all this at a moment in your life when you’re supposed to be finding out who you actually are…

Young Carers seeks to address this challenge. It is a partnership between The Lowry and Salford Young Carers Service. It’s an amazing process-based programme.

If Young Carers was a show or an exhibition, the arts sector would be falling over itself to distribute it to every theatre, arts centre or gallery in the land.

But the thing about the Young Carers programme is that it, currently, can only be experienced here, where the inspirational partnership with The Lowry exists.

The same can be said for many other great examples of exceptional creative practice around the UK which only exists in one venue, location or partnership.

Surely, if our industrial model has enabled us to share shows and exhibitions, we must be able to find a way to spread and grow fantastic creative projects?

I think we sometimes struggle to understand how we can distribute work which is so deeply rooted in communities – but this is sometimes because we make the assumption that in order to share this work, we should focus on the product.

But what if we began to focus on sharing creative methodologies? Sharing the process and how relationships are made, rather than the product.

Contact MCR and we in Battersea have been trying to do this with another co-created methodology from Brazil which I mentioned earlier, The Agency. It uses a creative process to support young people to develop and launch their own project or business.

It originated in Brazil before being adapted by us. Later this year it will be adapted by National Theatre of Wales in Cardiff and FabLab in Belfast.

I am sure there are others in this room who are doing the same with their own or other people’s creative approaches.

So I’ll finish with a quick invitation…

We are interested to work with artists and organisations around the country, and internationally, who have their own creative models that they want to tour. [Slide]

So we’re working with Gulbenkian Foundation and Arts Council England, and we hope you, on what is currently calling Co-Creating Change.

There are commissions to develop – or refine creative methodologies.

There are commissions to share and spread those methodologies.

And there are opportunities to come together to explore how we get better at this stuff.

We want to get more comfortable with talking about creative process. To have the difficult conversations not the easy ones.

If you are interested, there are more details on our website.

If you have ideas of how to shape such a network, we’d be really interested to listen.

Thanks for listening to this.