ARTISTS TALKING

# 29 [19 October 2007]

OUT AND ABOUT

Been more of an art tourist than an art maker this week. Shows in London and Plymouth and, on Thursday evening, the opening of Exeter Open Studios at Art Terracina on Exeter's quayside.

Ruth F. and I went along as Part One of our schmooze campaign. Part Two is our studio opening event at the end of November, which is now getting worryingly close. I'm convinced that the studio's survival (beyond this first temporary home) depends on getting ourselves known, not just by the local art crowd but by people in local government and business. Even so, this kind of socialising doesn't come easily to me.

Proof of its value comes quickly, however. We have a very reassuring chat with Catherine, the City Arts Officer, who says we're unlikely to have any problems with our 50% business rates relief. She's already on the case several levels above our Dave's head. As far as she's concerned we're offering incredibly good value for money - fulfilling a need the council has long been aware of and not asking for much financial support to do it.

Ruth F. is getting very pregnant and it makes her a great sidekick. She managed (quite literally) to bump into a journalist on the way to the loo and ordered him to wait for her while she had a pee. I'm sure he wouldn't have been nearly so obedient had it not been for her pregnant-lady superpowers.

Grab a couple of minutes with Cristina, the gallery owner. Like us, she rents her property cheaply because it's temporary. She too is up for redevelopment as her gallery occupies a lovely old warehouse on the waterfront. I invite her to our opening night and hope we can talk more. Even if we can't help each other, we can at least commiserate.

# 28 [12 October 2007]

Last weekend saw a little more space building and tidying and, somewhat miraculously, enough capable people managed to turn up at the same time to complete the gate fixing. We have parking again! But progress is slowing. I guess people are exhausted. I certainly am.

However Ruth O. has been busy - she's managed to secure us a little business sponsorship! She claims she just phoned up and asked, and they said "how much do you want?" Either she's underestimating her own effort or she has the magic touch! Anyway, it's badly needed and we're hugely pleased.

A packed week for me too. Beginning with a dash around to buy materials for my painting commission (scarily I've earned very little so far this month, so this piece of paid work can't wait).

In between making and priming canvases, I've discussed our new wiring with the electrician, got my head around the basics of power loads on rings and chased members about what kind of electrical equipment they're planning to use. Then I had to go and buy all the cabling and fittings we need to fix it up.

I (sort of) dealt with the wodge of official papers that have arrived since our CIC was incorporated (mostly by putting them in their own special pile). I liked it better when there was no post. I've also been trying to conclude our application for 50% business rates relief (worth £3000+ a year) and am now on round three of begging.

So far Exeter rates department have had: our official application form; our memorandum and articles of association; our incorporation details from Companies House; a statement of aims; a two-page document explaining how we benefit the community, how we fit in with the council's aims for the arts in Exeter and the precedents for local authority support for studios; a financial forecast; contact points for two references; and our accounts since August (which is when they became active).

Worryingly, Dave our rates officer has never heard of community interest companies and thinks we might need a year's accounts before they can make a judgement about our not-for-profit status.

We've priced the spaces assuming rates relief will be granted, so if we don't get it, there's trouble ahead. We have to stay optimistic, but my thoughts are already turning to how loud and smelly we could make our protest should the council let us down.

# 27 [4 October 2007]

GOING LIVE

Two big events this week. Adam almost got electrocuted and we finally became a community interest company (CIC).

We knew the electrics were bad but not how bad until Adam picked up a stray cable while clearing his space. He was careful with it (thankfully!) as he had spotted some bare wires. But when he threw it to one side, it popped and sparked. Yes, it was live and lying there, waiting to be trodden on. It makes me go cold to think about what could have happened.

So, the power is off and an electrician is coming in. And it's about to cost us money we haven't got but, frankly, we can't not fix the wiring after a warning like this.

On a more positive note, we have officially become a community interest company (which means - gulp - I am officially a company director). It's just in time to support our application for business rates relief and just as we've started talking about possible community sponsorship with a local building firm.

But, no surprise, my painting commission is going nowhere fast.

# 26 [27 September 2007]

GETTING TO WORK

Why, when I have so much else to do, have I found time to write this blog?

It's partly to record for myself the process and the progress of the project during these crucial early stages. It will seem like nothing once we're up and running. But this is our history (or at least my version of it) and it might help to remember where we came from when we're wondering where to go next.

It's also to explain to friends and family why I'm so preoccupied and tired, without having to repeat the whole story 100 times. And perhaps to pass on some of the things we've learnt to other artists trying to do the same.

But mostly it's because the studio project has (temporarily) become my practice. Documenting it is a way of giving it substance and meaning. It becomes both a structured dialogue with myself and, I suppose, a kind of public showing.

Now, I not only have a studio but something to do in it. I've been worried and excited about the moment where I stand for the first time in that big white space and have to decide where to begin again. I was seriously concerned I'd find lots of paperwork and studio business to occupy me and put off the evil moment forever.

But quite out of the blue I've been given a gift - a commission for a painting. The money will be very useful, but more important is the impetus it gives me to get in my studio and get started. Not quite the open-ended time I was hoping for, but probably a better option when there's so much else that could distract me. Time to get cracking!

# 25 [21 September 2007]

ASK NOT WHAT YOUR STUDIO CAN DO FOR YOU...

The Arts Council visited on Wednesday. They seemed genuinely surprised and delighted at how much we'd achieved. There is nothing like actual physical built stuff to convince people you might have it in you to succeed.

While we waited for them to arrive, Sam and I surveyed the sorry state of the front gate. It's a big sliding door a few metres high that provides access to our outside space and it's jammed shut after its upper track broke loose from the wall last week. It means all deliveries have to come in the front door down narrow corridors instead of straight into the open studio space. And it means no one can park in the yard.

It's a nuisance for everyone and we want to get it fixed, but it's just one of many, many tasks, all of them urgent, that we're trying to deal with. We decided to borrow a scaffold tower and get our best metal and woodworkers on the case this weekend. So I was rather taken aback later to be harangued by one of my fellow studio members about the amount it was costing her to park and how she only took the studio because of the free parking.

In fact, her terms and conditions only offer parking "subject to availability". But that's the small print. Far more worrying is that she seems not to understand the underlying principle of the whole enterprise. We have always described ourselves as a collaboration and I thought we had been specific about what that implies. So I would have liked her to ask me what she could do to help fix the gate faster - and maybe she was about to ...

However, our conversation was cut short by a call from a colleague in a state of some agitation because of two more unfriendly exhanges - with other people, on other topics, but similar in tone. Perhaps we haven't been communicating our ethos very well (in which case it's sheer luck that so many people are cheerfully mucking in). Or maybe the stress of being involved in start-up is pushing people's buttons and they'll be utterly reasonable next time we see them. I hope so.

Eventually, though, we're bound to encounter people who can't get it and won't get it. For whom the idea of paying money to share in something just doesn't compute. Fingers crossed we haven't met them yet.

# 24 [14 September 2007]

A PRIVATE FUNCTION

Here's a question. If you shared a studio building with 20 other artists, would you want a door on your space?

This interests me because there's a division developing between people who want to work behind a closed door and those who think it's pointless - and it's not necessarily to do with the value of people‘s tools, materials or finished work.

When we set up - to keep costs down and to keep things simple - we promised everyone a basic three-sided space. (Some got more because of existing rooms or walls in the building, but that was the principle.) We said that any further modification of spaces had to be done at your own expense. We thought that sheer inertia would result in a very open studio, with strong locks on the outside but very few bars within.

But almost immediately, people started to barricade themselves into their spaces. Then others, who'd apparently been happy with the idea of open spaces, began to follow suit. To the point where I now feel a bit exposed by choosing to keep my space open. Could it be right, that much joked-about relationship between making art and shitting? One thing's for sure, many people feel the need to be shut in a small windowless cubicle in order to do their work.

It can be hard to make work under the gaze of others, but it's equally hard to function without comment or feedback. My colleague Sylvia and I talked about it and we think that people who spend all their time behind closed doors will miss out on the collaborative benefits of a shared space while still enduring the disadvantages like other people's mess, moaning and noise. But maybe we're being naïve. It will be interesting to see.

(And, in case you were wondering: I'm prepared to do art in public, but my loo door is always closed.)

# 23 [9 September 2007]

BACK TO SCHOOL

On Friday we hired a van and raided the art college for unwanted partitions and furniture. The boards were very knocked about and hard to dismantle (most of the easy to remove and/or decent ones had already been taken down and shipped to Plymouth) but good enough for our temporary space.

We only had access for one day and rushed to get as many boards as possible. Taking the partitions apart was hard, but getting the boards to the van was tougher still: some had to be hauled down four flights of stairs. It was sweaty, dirty, physically exhausting work and I'm ashamed to admit that my arms and legs turned to jelly within hours. (Too long away from proper studio work: I'm getting unfit!)

The old college building is destined for demolition and there's a load more stuff in there we could reuse and rescue from landfill - sinks, doors, power points, lights, fire equipment. But we're not allowed to remove it. Instead we satisfy ourselves by dumpster diving outside the back door while we wait for the van. We liberate filing trays, ring binders, some circuit breakers, an old radio and - who knows why - a tatty University of Plymouth branded doormat.

Back at the studio, gentle anarchy reigns over the construction, but it seems to be working. The money crisis feels calmer now. I think we've all got our heads round the idea we can't afford to do everything at once and have agreed spending priorities. Next on the list are lights, and fire and safety equipment.

# 22 [5 September 2007]

FROM ITALY TO WHO KNOWS WHERE...

Never read panicky emails from studio colleagues just before you go to bed. Sleepless night guaranteed! It's not the mountain of tasks that keeps me awake - that's become a fact of life - it's people's states of mind. I'm worried about what might result from a reckless (though understandable) rush to GET STUFF DONE without thinking about it first.

And I was feeling so mellow! I've just come back from a family holiday in Italy and had my first sight of the studios in over a week. It was hard to leave the project at such a critical stage but the trip was booked ages ago. So I just had to pack my bags and try not to worry.

To my great relief, the contract went through smoothly and most people who committed to taking spaces paid up. A small crisis when the bailiffs forced entry to turn off the power (due to money owed by the previous tenants) but no major disasters. Everyone's been really busy and the building conversion is progressing well. We even have a new front door! It was only when I tried to pick up the threads of our priorities and plans that I realised we might have started to get a bit lost.

You have to improvise to some extent in a project like this - there are just so many unknowns. And you certainly need to favour action over talking, or nothing would ever get done. But I can never forget it's other people's money we're spending as well as our own, that there is a finite amount of it and that we can only spend it once - so we'd better be sure to spend it on the right things.

And if we don't stop occasionally, look each other in the eye and remind ourselves who we are, what we're supposed to be doing and where we're up to, we're going to end up some place we never meant to be.

# 21 [23 August 2007]

GOING WITH THE FLOW

We knew we had problems with water coming in but, after a bit of a deluge, we discover we also have problems with water getting out. Rain was gushing down drainpipes from the roof and hitting blocked drains in the interior. Rivers, fountains, lakes...water everywhere!

So while some continue to build spaces, others are opening up the manhole covers and getting to work with the rubber gloves and drain rods. The rotting rags, rubbish, wriggling wildlife, sawdust and other gunk would be bad enough but someone in our neighbourhood has also deposited used engine oil down the drains. It's left a reeking clotted mess down there and my colleague Patrick had his head right in it.

Issues continue to surface and one is becoming really critical. We all agree that we want to get the most out of the building in the short time available to us: having some time to practise while also gaining the profile and experience to take this organisation on to better things. But of course this means different things to different people.

My view at the moment is that I'll make my work with and from what's to hand. I have a broad direction but I'm also interested in how the building and the community influence me. This is a phase of experiment for me, both with being in a studio project and finding out what kind of work I want to make next. If we were here for five years I'd be more interested in changing and controlling my environment, but I feel with 20 months or less, it's more important to accept what we have and get on with some kind of work.

For other artists with more established practices or very specific needs, this may not be possible. After all, if you have a kiln, it has to be properly powered. If you're preparing a series of paintings to an exhibition deadline, you don't want them to get wet. Where do you draw the line between essential and desirable, particularly on a tight budget and a short lease?

# 20 [19 August 2007]

TOUCH WOOD

Still no contract, but things are moving forward and the landlord has given us access to the building to start our conversion. Of course there's a risk that we could spend lots of time and money only to have it all snatched away, but with the keys in our pocket we feel reasonably confident and have got stuck in.

Having had a closer look at the space, we've decided to revamp the studio layout slightly. It makes a lot of sense as it gives us more working studio space, better access, and quicker exit in an emergency, but it has meant changes to a handful of spaces. So I had to re-do all the plans and costings and tell one or two people that their studios had completely changed - and not for the better. It's bad news for them but good news for the project overall. So that was my Friday night - I didn't even eat dinner until about 11pm. And then my Saturday morning too.

But on Saturday afternoon I dropped into the studio to measure up for some plumbing work that needs to be done. My colleagues Francis, Sam and Sylvia had been hard at work and the space was already transformed. It was thrilling to see something physical and real instead of just piles of paper and plans.

Issues are coming up thick and fast and it's interesting to see how each of us is reacting. It's already evident that we have differing attitudes on everything from the importance of planning to the management of money, from what's an acceptable risk to the way we should treat our members. These differences are a potential source of conflict and disintegration, but so far they're working incredibly well for us, causing healthy debate and useful checks and balances. For example, I admit it, I'm a worrier - and I wouldn't get anywhere with a project like this if I wasn't involved with more gung-ho optimists. At the same time, I think my caution may have stopped us making one or two potentially disastrous mistakes.

So, yesterday, I stood in the middle of a space that will be my studio. And even though it could all still go horribly wrong - and even though there was rain dripping on my head - for a moment, the heart-pounding, sleep-depriving stress of the past few weeks just melted away.