ARTISTS TALKING

# 9 [3 May 2007]

STUCK, STUCK, STUCK

Our exasperation with our future landlords reaches a peak - particularly as we're hearing from more and more people who want to rent studio spaces, assuming we must be up and running by now.

We're assured that the building hasn't been let to anyone else, it's ours; we just need to be patient because the landlords moved office three weeks ago and they're very busy. It all sounds so reasonable, except that we were supposed to have the contract months ago. We are being fobbed off.

There are several possibilities here. One, the landlords are failing to take us seriously as potential tenants. Two, they are hopelessly inefficient. Three, they have no intention of ever letting this building to anyone, but we provide a convenient excuse for the fact it's lying empty.

None of these sounds like good news for us, although I'll be pretty happy to eat my words if the contract lands on my colleague's doormat tomorrow.

In the meantime, we've started to look at alternative properties. First up, somewhere to really lift the spirits - just about your ideal studio building: a Victorian school. Lots of light, high ceilings, already divided into convenient spaces. A bit leaky, but we could start using it tomorrow. One big problem: it's for sale, not rent. I suspect it's an opportunity that's arrived a few years too early for us.

# 8 [23 April 2007]

SEPARATION AND IMMERSION

Some time ago a made a piece of work called I draw them. They draw me. It’s a short loop of video, showing me, standing behind a second floor window, drawing on it. You’re on the outside and I’m on the inside: you can’t really see me, just the reflection of the sky and a few passing birds, and my marks appearing on the window.

I’m actually tracking the birds’ flight paths with my drawings. But you wouldn’t really know that because the birds I can see and the reflection you can see are from two totally different viewpoints.

Nevertheless we’re all wrapped up in this. Me, the observer; the birds who are being observed but are also observing me at the window; and you the viewer observing all of us and our strange interaction.

It was an experimental piece and I have a lot more thinking to do in relation to it. It came at the end of a process where I was trying to stand outside the world, take up a traditional scientific position and make accurate, objective observations. But I found that the harder I tried to be separate from the things I was observing, the more aware I was of how immersed I was in the world and how it affected me and the observations I made.

I find this piece interesting in relation to what’s happened to me since – with the Exeter Studios Project. In a strange way, it’s that same theme of being separate and being immersed that’s started to play itself out.

I started out thinking I needed a space to work. A neutral thing, you’d think– a simple resource to enable my work. But spaces come with other stuff – atmosphere, politics, rules, routines, etiquette, boundaries, pressures. For example, when I was first at college I was institutionalised faster than I would have thought possible. Whatever you do – rebelling or conforming – ends up being in response to the surrounding organisation.

Even home – my current workspace – is not a compromise-free zone. Instead there’s a constant negotiation with myself and other permanent and passing members of the household to have the time and freedom to work.

Now I’m a midst of a new organisation forming itself around a potential workspace and already developing its own flavour. Where I make my work will affect how I make my work. And, of course, I will affect it back. You simply can’t separate the two.

# 7 [13 April 2007]

MOUNTAINS OF PAPER AND WOOD

Several hours over a hot calculator analysing research data is quite an attractive prospect. Or so my colleague tells me after we swap some of our tasks and I take over our community interest company (CIC) application. Amongst other stuff, she also gets to chase up the council's planning department, as there is a mighty level of confusion about the agreed use of the building. Nonetheless, she positively skips out the door.

The CIC application is a big task, but I plan to do a bit each day. The CIC is a new company structure designed especially for social enterprises. Half way between a charity and a limited company, it gives the protection of a limited company while retaining the community orientation that's so important when looking for public funding. http://www.cicregulator.gov.uk/

So far I've read lots and lots and lots of guidance notes online and checked out our basic idea with someone at the regulator's office. I sent off an email, not expecting much, but they were back to me within a couple of hours with lots of encouraging and helpful advice. It feels much less like a lonely battle against bureaucracy now.

I've also asked my fellow studio users what they think about a name. Exeter Studios was only ever a working title for the project and we're all sure we should be called something more creative (if only we could remember what it is).

Another landlord-imposed deadline comes and goes without any progress. He wanted us to sign by April 10th but we're still waiting to receive a copy of the actual contract. The only one we've seen so far is a draft that allows us to operate a car park at Castle Cary railway station.

For most of the group, the big fear is that we won't get the building. I'm worried about that, but I have an even bigger fear: we do secure the building and then we don't manage to do the interior conversion, leaving us renting a building we can't use and can't let. To me, the interior building work is a massive, expensive, scary job, but to others it's a simple bit of DIY. A few hundred metres of partitioning, a couple of sinks, a bit of wiring, some fire extinguishers and locks - how hard can it be?

For my colleague it was a mountain of official paperwork that seemed so daunting; for me it's a mountain of timber and board.

# 6 [4 April 2007]

Everyone seems to be losing energy, brought to a standstill by the sheer weight of decisions, investigations, actions that have to be got through, problems that have to be solved. 

One member has taken on the application process for registering as a community interest company. When I ask her how she's doing she says: "Have you seen the paperwork? It's this thick!" Too daunting to even start. Her admission of defeat is a trigger for a now predictable group behaviour. When things aren't going well and everyone knows it, our conversations start to divert. Why don't we become a charity instead? Why do we need a formal organisation at all? Why do we have to deal with a commercial landlord? Can't the council do something? Wouldn't it be better to try to buy something? Get some lottery money and build something?

These alternative courses of action are, of course, just as difficult - but because they are abstract, they seem so much more attractive than the problems at hand. There are times when I wonder if the whole thing isn't about getting studio space at all. Perhaps it's really a networking opportunity - a kind of cosy artists' coffee morning where we can sit around and dream about our ideal studio.

The main thing - the real thing - we have to deal with is how much our project has changed in the past few months. When we first offered on our building, we were 8 or 10 people who were prepared to share a commercial rent on the basis of trust. As people have dropped out or scaled down their spaces, we've had to look for more members. While it's been great to extend our network, we've now become a sprawling group of 17-25 people who need a much more complex structure and organisation to hold us together and ensure everyone's financial protection.

# 5 [29 March 2007]

THE MEMBERSHIP LIST

On Tuesday I gave a talk to a group of artists about my practice. And although I mentioned the Exeter Studios Project (I have been described as a one-woman walking billboard on the subject), I decided to focus on the stuff I make - or rather, made.

It made me feel like an artist not an administrator, and it gave me a nice warm glow. But it also felt a little dishonest. The presentation I gave was pulled together in between conversations about bank accounts, buildings insurance, contract details and business sponsorship. And constant updating of The Membership List.

The Membership List is on my computer, but print-outs of its various incarnations also fill a crumpled yellow folder on the floor nearby. The Membership List is my true current obsession - a fantastic unfolding narrative featuring 20-30 imminent studio members plus a large supporting cast. I don't think a day goes past without a new plot development.

At the top of the list are 13 or so very precious names - these are the people who are seriously committed to being part of the start-up and each is accompanied by square footages and rent costs.  Below them are people who definitely want to take space in July or August (mostly final-year students or teachers anticipating free time in the holidays). And below them is a very sad little list of the people who were absolutely, passionately up for it.  Who maybe put in time and energy to help and then who, for one reason or another - lack of funds, loss of nerve, change of circumstances (we've even had a baby born during the course of this project) - have had to pull out for now.

Every day brings news that either raises hopes or crushes them. Take A., who was prepared to contribute her deposit early to ensure the project took off, but couldn't rent any space until the end of August. This was good news and bad news: the deposit was very welcome, and we really admired her willingness to put her money where her mouth was, but someone would still have to cover her rent in the intervening months. Then up popped a student, who wanted to rent space temporarily - just for the summer! Introduce them and we're sorted! When pieces fit together that neatly, you start to feel like it's all meant to be.

Then A. goes silent. A sudden lack of communication from someone who's been very involved is usually a sign, I'm coming to realise, that all is not well. And sure enough, when I prompt her about a meeting date I get back a three-part text, full of apologies. Still very interested, but having a few financial setbacks and can't commit at present. Damn!

# 4 [23 March 2007]

MAKING V. DOING

This project has forced me to re-assess my expectations of what my personal practice might be. I'm a studio-based artist and one of my interests is generating and realising ideas through physical processes. But when I look at how I'm actually spending my time now, I realise I'm not really making stuff, I'm doing stuff. Studio work (which has already been scaled down so I can do it in a domestic environment) has now taken back seat to a large volume of organisation and administration.

Of course any project takes planning, paperwork, communication etc, but the product of this organisational process will be another organisation. A physical space, yes, but also a community, a social group. One that needs ongoing nurturing, maintenance and support.

Looked at positively, setting up the studios is a legitimate artistic activity - a socially engaged form of practice, the creation of something new in our local environment and community, a possible route to engaging with artists and audiences further afield. Looked at negatively, it's a huge infringement on our personal time and resources. The simple quest to find somewhere - some means - to work may mean sacrificing the time we need to do our work. I can hear the chorus of voices out there already. Welcome, they're saying, to the artist's life.

# 3 [13 March 2007]

“Let me know when you’ve got it all up and running and I might take a space then…”  If we had a pound for every time we've heard that, we’d be able to give our studio spaces away.

Fortunately, a much more entrepreneurial crew turned out last Friday. We organised a drop-in session at the local arts centre for artists interested in renting space. That morning they were just names on a form, but by the evening there they were in a room together, getting along just fine. You could start to imagine the buzz there might be if we all got to work in one building. Just hearing their enthusiasm for the project made all the slog worthwhile.

We went away with a clearer idea of numbers and re-did our sums for start-up. We’re trying to do this using just our own funds plus what grants and sponsorship we’re able to cobble together. That means the individual artists have to fund the deposit, the interior build, the standing charges on utilities, the insurance premiums, the legal fees, the planning fees etc etc. So the more people we can persuade to contribute, the more manageable it will be.

Will the landlord hold the building much longer? Will we get enough people ready to sign by the deadline? Even if we do, will that just be the start of our problems? I veer between blind optimism and utter panic. But one thing’s for sure: even if we fall at this hurdle and don’t secure this building, our profile, our network and our huge store of new knowledge means we’re in a very strong position to try again.

# 2 [28 February 2007]

Some will say we've done this back to front. It's certainly not by the book. But we have made an offer on a two-year lease on a warehouse building near the railway that's up for redevelopment. In an ideal world we'd have done more groundwork first, but it might be years before we see another building like this. It's not perfect, but the short tenure means the rent is relatively cheap.

On the other hand, the length of the lease means there's no chance of capital funding from the Arts Council. But we have secured a small grant to support research for the project. It's been real delayed gratification, giving up valuable studio time to fill in forms and write proposals...all so that we can have somewhere better to work in the future.

It's all happened quite fast, given that the group only met each other about six months ago. We have a core group of six artists and about 10 to 15 others who are ‘very interested', but still thinking it over. Between us we cover a broad span of career stages and a healthy mix of disciplines -- perhaps because we came together over a shared need for workspace rather than anything else.

We expect there will be a bit of a scramble for places once everything's more concrete, but right now it's hard to get people to commit. The problem is -- nothing is certain at this stage except financial risk and a lot of hard work.

# 1 [20 February 2007]

If you're an artist in Exeter in need of affordable studio space, what options do you have? Between Spike Island in Bristol and Flameworks in Plymouth, not a lot. Many artists and makers resident in Devon's self-proclaimed ‘Capital City' survive on kitchen tables, in garden sheds, by renting workshops at commercial rates or by commuting out to the sticks to work in rural barns. Or they just give up studio-based work altogether.

As the Arts Council has identified, finding affordable studio space is an issue for artists in urban areas across the country, but the visual arts seem under particular threat here in Exeter. It's not just the lack of workspace, it's the diminishing infrastructure.

Exeter College of Art & Design, which has been a feature of the city since the late 1800s, is due to move 50 miles west in summer 2007 in the final stage of its integration with the University of Plymouth. Our next nearest art college, Dartington, recently announced that it too plans to move - mostly probably to Cornwall to join forces with Falmouth.

These two colleges will take with them not just teaching posts and technician opportunities for artists, but future generations of students who feed into the local art scene. These new artists don't just produce art, they also nurture it -- providing audiences for Exeter's contemporary gallery spaces such as Spacex and the Phoenix.

So Exeter badly needs not just affordable studio space, but a new focal point for practising artists. We sure aren't the whole answer, but we are a start - a group who plan to set up artist-run studio space in Exeter.

If you live in the Exeter area and would like to join us, visit www.exeterstudios.co.uk