A Selfless Art

On Wednesday, I will speak to an audience of artists and activists in Prague. I will do so with some trepidation. It will be more than two years since I last spoke in public, in Vienna, and that was with misgivings that are evident in my talk. I was already gripped by doubts and questions about my work and I did not want to pass these on, like a cold virus, to anyone else.

My hope—Philip Pullman says that a writer cannot intend but only hope to influence a reader—my hope, in writing and speaking, in co-creation and teaching, has always been to encourage others. To work at community level, especially in the arts, is to work on the margins of what most societies value. So however rewarding it is in practice, it’s always a struggle to get resources, support and recognition. Co-creation and community development can be a lonely and difficult calling.

The intellectual framework of the work has also been weak or hard to find. Why do we do it? How? What are our standards? What does it mean? What is it worth? Why should anyone care? A field needs a shared discourse in which such questions are aired and answered, in which ideas are tested and renewed.

The first book I published on co-creation—a handbook for artists and animateurs called Regular Marvels (1994)—aimed to provide some of that framework, and my subsequent writing—especially Use or Ornament? (1997) and A Restless Art (2019)—has continued that effort. The speeches I gave, between 10 and 15 a year, were part of that too: my hope was always to give artists and activists working with communities some helpful conceptual tools and to encourage them in their daily work.

In 2023, beset by doubts, I felt couldn’t do that any more. Fortunately, the invitations to speak at conferences also stopped coming in, so I could step back and take stock. I hesitated a lot before accepting the invitation to speak this week. I eventually did, partly because I have begun to see a way forward, but principally because I have come to see that there is an even greater need for encouragement in these dark times. Now, when the need for community art is greater than ever, is not the time to stop.

And I know the value of encouragement because I have had it from my friends over the past months. Encourage: not really to give courage, because that’s not possible, but to help others to find courage in themselves. It’s one of the most important things we can do for one another. So I will step onto a stage on Wednesday hoping to leave the audience feeling a bit stronger in their valuable work. After all, my feelings and doubts are insigificant: it’s always about them and the people they work with, the transformational and encouraging work of community art.