Village halls are brilliant places. They’re so versatile and yet can have a real character of their own. My project for #Aiseirigh#CultureCollective aimed to get their usage up after so many had been left empty over lockdown, particularly as culture spaces to share experiences.
I didn’t want to just put on events though. Events are great but they only attract events people. I didn’t want to have lots of two-hours-where-a-big-group-of-people-silently-watch-a-small-group-of-people-do-something.
So I teamed up with @CatherineMacP12 from @HLHArchives. We came up with a plan to hold memory sessions with free refreshments. No agenda, just people getting into their local hall and chatting about the past and present.
Catherine put together exhibition boards for each area displaying old photos and articles, to be an informal provocation for discussion. We also encouraged people to bring in their own objects.
At the end of each session we’d have some music organised by my #Aiseirigh colleague Angus Mackenzie.
Crucially none of these discussions were led. There was no agenda. The main thing was to get people together after so long apart. More than once someone told us “I haven’t been in the hall for years, I didn’t feel like it was FOR me” but community spaces are for everyone!
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The challenge with organising things in village halls is they aren’t dedicated venues with paid staff, they are fuelled by goodwill. Sometimes the business of fixing the roof and keeping the lights on supersedes curating a dedicated programme of events.
Indeed some halls have ended up as the sole responsibility of a single volunteer who becomes the only person who knows how things work and where the fuse box is. It can feel like a thankless task and it isn’t surprising when people get jaded.
The combination of folk taking the hall for granted (or forgetting it’s there entirely) and a growing resentment in the people keeping the damp at bay leads to a vicious circle: if you want to use the hall you have to negotiate with someone who’s lost their passion for the place.
The ongoing mission was/is to keep coming back into the halls throughout the project (and hopefully long into the future) so that the venues themselves run through the work like the words in a stick of rock.
So step two involved me writing songs inspired by the conversations and then coming back into those halls to record them with local singers and musicians. I’m currently ten songs in with notes for three or four more.
Throughout this whole project I’ve been very aware of how important it is not to filter or erase the original voices, that often well-meaning creatives bust in and find great local material, make an album and hoover up all the attention leaving no legacy at all.
Right so I’ve got two full days left at the helm of the H&I Voices account. I’ve talked about being a crew member of @DunveganFire and working with @SEALLEventsSkye, plus a bit about my past as a touring musician. Today is going to be all about @CultureColSco.
The #CultureCollective was set up in the wake of the covid lockdowns as a way of getting money to artists and projects quickly, with funding pots administered by local organisations throughout Scotland (in the case of Skye & Lochalsh it’s @SEALLEventsSkye and #AtlasArts).
The Skye & Lochalsh group is called #Aiseirigh and comprises artists Hannah Myers and @MalcolmPlockton, theatre director Daniel Cuilin, playwright Lesley Wilson and musicians Angus Mackenzie and @louisbarabbas (me).
An offshoot of being dragged back into the creative industries after a fallow period of burnout is that I’d found a different kind of confidence. The fire service made me feel useful for the first time in my life so I now felt more at ease putting myself forward as an artist.
In 2021 @CreativeScots created a covid recovery fund to stimulate the grassroots arts sector that had been so debilitated by lockdown. @SEALLEventsSkye administered the fund for Skye/Lochalsh and created six jobs for artists to do community work in various creative disciplines.
I applied for the position that focused on reinvigorating community spaces, citing experience from when I organised events for Manchester label @debtrecords.
Strangely, at the exact point I’d made the mental leap into no longer thinking of myself as a musician, I got an email out of the blue asking if I’d lead the theatre band for a big stage production. A dream job. But I’d literally just been accepted into the fire service that day.
I told them I couldn’t, that I had ties in Skye that made it impossible, despite it being a career ambition. BUT if they didn’t mind me working remotely, I would write the music (despite having not written a single note for over a year and uncertain if I still could).
It wasn’t a full-on musical at this point, just one scene that needed music. I read the script and asked if I could pitch them some songs to make it an actual FBM (full blown musical). I took the dog out for a long walk on the moors and came back with a song and sent it over.