Pull Up A Chair Gravesham - Anne Langford

Today I had a Zoom with Päivi from LV21 to talk about the logistics of how this residency might work. As the month progresses it may be more appropriate to visit and meet with more people outside, one on one. We are also gathering a sense of all the virtual or long distance possibilities there might be. Päivi is going to try to retain the element of surprise, to create room for the unexpected by giving me challenges rather than us agreeing a schedule. I can’t wait. I also attend GAS – Gravesham Arts Salon. On a Zoom hosted by Mandy Hare, a culture manager for Gravesham Council, who in more usual times I think can be found at the Woodville Theatre   (currently a vaccination centre).  GAS is a gathering of artists and producers , representing themselves and organisations, saying hello and sharing what they are planning. There were people who would consider themselves professional artists and people who wouldn’t. I often feel uncomfortable with the term professional. It rarely relates to

Content note: frequent references to death of family, friends and grief Approx read time: 9 minutes I’m on the Thames foreshore in Wapping on Sunday 17 January. The UK has had 3,395,959 positive Coronavirus cases, and more than 88,512 people have died. I was unsure whether to keep noting this but it feels as important as the date, to remember and honour those lost. I’ve been struggling with the lack of a national conversation about grief.  By the end of the day, when Sunday’s grim statistics are announced, one of those numbers represents the loss of a vibrant and much loved member of my family. This is the final of three days of a LADA   DIY workshop , all done via Zoom, and led by artist Rachel Gomme . Together, a group of artists have been sharing projects which they lost because of the pandemic. How can we appropriately share the loss of projects, in the context of so much loss of life? The losses we feel are real, like so many others we have lost much that defines who we are and ho

30 November, 2020. The UK has had 1,617,327 positive Coronavirus cases, and more than 58,245 people have died. I’ve been trying to write a letter for about 6 weeks. It’s to someone I’ve never met, and it’s a moment of connection, a thread connecting me to the Pull Up a Chair residency. The theme I’ve been given is ‘Pride’, and what that means for the people and communities of Gravesham. My confidence is at a pretty low ebb, in myself as an artist, and in the point of making art in this world now. We’re over three weeks into the second lockdown, and we’re all tired. The possibility of connection with family and friends feels even further away. Writing this letter has been on my To Do list every day, and I’ve skirted around it or just flat out ignored it and hidden doing my laundry. I’m wrestling with ‘Pride’; what it means, and with all the meanings it has acquired. I notice I often think of the word in a reductive way, that somehow it makes things smaller or tighter. It feels unstable,