Penultimate (jam packed) day!
It’s my penultimate day in Gravesham and my last day on LV21. Except I really hope that it isn’t my last day on LV21, and I might just decide to stowaway at the end of the day and not go home.
It’s another sunny day and I’m sitting on a bench finishing off The Infinite by Patience Agbabi. This is a book for children aged 10ish and up, Païvi loaned it to me and I’m racing to finish it before I get to meet the author. I love it, the hero of the story Elle Bíbi-Imbelé Ifíè is a voice I’ve never heard in a book before, though through my community arts work I’ve met lots of young people she reminds me of. She’s a courageous, kind and curious Leapling – born on 29 February. The story is a really good mystery adventure that centres and celebrates lots of neurodiverse voices we don’t often get to hear. I don’t quite finish it before I see the author approach and we have a smiley, socially distant hello. We go up and sit on deck of LV21 and Patience kindly lets me grill her about her writing process and the inspiration for the story. An accomplished poet this is her first foray into writing for children and The Infinite is the first in a tetralogy, a cycle of four books.
Patience lives in Gravesend with her family and we talk about their lockdown experience, about making time to write while home schooling and supporting family. I’m struck by how sort of matter of fact Patience is about her writing. It always seems such a phenomenally courageous and huge achievement to me that anyone writes anything coherent, let alone gets published. The word that comes to mind is craft, a mixture of dedication and skill and a very down to earth practical application to the task at hand. As I learn a little more about Patience’s life I see the threads of connection to the story, how her experiences are re-imagined to breathe life, and detail and a sort of truth into the characters and narrative. Patience is part of an athletics club and looking forward to being able to train together again, Elle in the story uses running to calm and focus herself. I really appreciate this opportunity to speak with another artist. I sort of wondered if it was cheating somehow, spending so much time over the last couple of days with other makers. I really relish how it actually encourages me to reflect on what I do, to feel inspired by others work and connected to people who also have the drive to create. I leave Patience and Païvi to plan an event that will take place on LV21 as part of Estuary Festival, or the quayside, a reading by Patience from the next book in the series.
I jump off ship to chat with two people sitting on a bench that Païvi has suggested would be really good for me to connect with, Cllr and Deputy Mayor Lyn Miller and Jaqueline, who will be her chaplain when she becomes Mayor next year. These two friends are enjoying a catch up and some sun and I feel a little unsure about interrupting them, I know how long it has been since I’ve been able to connect with friends.
When I introduce myself, I’m warmly received and I perch on the concrete wall and we chat. They are both longstanding residents of Gravesend and deeply knowledgeable about and proud of the place. I find out how Lyn became a councillor, it all started with a housing issue where she lived. A community organiser who started trying to make sure that there was decent council housing and people were treated fairly. She laughs as she recalls how it all sort of snowballed from there and then someone suggesting she stand as a councillor. That was 20 years ago. Her journey didn’t start in party politics but in real life experience. She is now the councillor for Riverside, representing the Labour party. We chat about what she’s looking forward to as Mayor, she’ll chose a focus for her year and at the moment she thinks that may have a celebratory tone as the town opens up again. She senses that there will be a lot of restoration and repair needed in the community on all levels.
Jacqueline will be Lyn’s chaplain and we talk about that role, providing pastoral support and guidance. I notice again these networks of care and support, some structured and some less so. It’s an interesting role I haven’t really considered before, that of chaplain. There are chaplains associated to many institutions and organisations. I wonder if other faiths have these representations woven into the fabric of the civic society? We chat about Easter, and whether services will be in person or online and how they feel about it. They wonder if it’s a little too soon to be meeting in person? I’m really aware of all these negotiations that are ongoing in every part of my life, I wonder what the lasting impact of this will be, if there is one? I sort of hope it will make us more sensitive to the needs and challenges other people have, to not just assume that our experience is mirrored in everyone we meet.
I leave the chatting friends, noticing how many older women I have met who are somehow the culture keepers and defenders of places. Women, still, take on much of the unpaid care work in our communities, and as such are often much closer to the machinery of the civic world; schools, doctors, support groups. Yet they are still underrepresented in the decision making and executive structures of these systems, and at this rate of progress we are 98 years away from gender equality, that would be my great granddaughters generation. That’s way too long.
I return to the ship as I’m going to meet Fraser Gray, the photographer who shares photos on Twitter @FraserG32883664. I’ve found his Twitter feed has been a brilliant way for me to stay in contact with Gravesend when I haven’t been there, with stunning photographs of the river and boats. I’m interested to meet him and find out why he takes these photos.
We settle down on deck at LV21, our seats are angled looking slightly out onto the river and I have the most fascinating and surprising conversation (and I’ve been having lots of those) I had maybe thought that Fraser was interested in maritime history or architecture and that’s why he took these photographs. I discover that his interest lies in the composition of form, the shapes of the boats in relation to landscape. A trained artist who left painting, he’s been a photographer for a long time. He talks about Japanese theories of composition and leaving blank space and it’s a revelation. Fraser enjoys heading off for long walks into the marshes armed with his camera, he appreciates the spaciousness and the deep history of this place. He mentions stumbling across some ancient bones while out in the marshes and learning that they were pre-historic. I’m really fascinated by his deep connection to the place, and all it’s phases of time. It’s been a common thread between lots of the people I have met on this journey.
Fraser has been surprised by the popularity of his Twitter account, but he’s appreciated the moments of connect and feedback. When he started posting on Twitter he didn’t caption the images, his interest lies in the photograph. Lots of people who are interested from a maritime history perspective wanted to know about the subject of the photograph, so he started adding craft names and locations.
We talk about Gravesend, Fraser appreciates the and bleakness of the marshes – I find this fascinating as through his lens Gravesend is imbued with epic beauty. Some his sunrise and sunset photographs are particularly stunning. They could almost be postcards from a tropical island paradise, it’s only when you notice that it’s a container ship in silhouette that this idea is disrupted. Fraser goes out with his camera most days, often starting early to catch morning light. I notice the similarities to Patience approach to his craft – regular practice, perseverance.
At some point we start to talk about how Fraser started photographing and it’s here that I learn he began by photographing bands and singers – significant artists including The Undertones , The Who and Ian Drury . And then I hear the story of how he came to photograph David Bowie. Fraser is very unassuming and this revelation that he spent time documenting the work of one of the 20th century’s most enduring cultural icons is something of a shock. I’m fascinated by how he reflects on this experience and how it came to be. A picture editor applied on his behalf for a photo pass to photograph David Bowie at his 1978 ISOLAR II concert in London. Fraser had to take his stage photography portfolio to show David Bowie’s publicist, the late Barbara DeWitt, to gain permission to photograph him. This was a nerve-racking experience because Ms DeWitt is the sister of the film director and photographer Bruce Weber.
What is most interesting is how Fraser reflects on how Bowie’s ideas – about art, culture and the gender binary – shaped his own thinking. And how deeply grateful he is for the exposure to new ways of thinking about the world. We talk about the gender binary and how nonsensical it seems when we think about it, and how we feel that broader culture both social and digital is catching up with David Bowie’s vision of the future.
I could spend hours talking to Fraser, he’s a deep thinker and artist with rich life experiences. He’s been part of the LV21 crew since the ship moved to Gravesham, and there’s a deep affection and respect on both sides. The ship is beginning to float and I don’t have any food, soon we’ll be marooned on board for a few hours. I say my thanks to Fraser and leave him chatting with Païvi as I dash into the high street for a Marie’s panini and swing by the market to pick up any fabric flowers (these will be used to make floral chandeliers for the markets planned reopening in April)
I spend the afternoon on deck, trying to write, feeling like I’m holiday. It’s warm and drowsy and the gentle motion of the ship is soothing and lulling. I sort through all my materials and books – I’ve enjoyed photograph books of the area, especially the ones that compare how the place used to look with current images. I feel a little guilty about not being more productive. I often feel this. I think sometimes it really gets in the way of my creative practice, this need to be productive and doing. There’s a mash up of my personal energy – always busy, my family history, working class, hard grafting and the structures that we live in – what are you making? What’s your hustle? Getting by as a creative which often means working multiple job to make ends meet. I catch a whisper of a slower, more embodied creative life this afternoon. I sense a change in my working life is coming and that more of this slower pace would make me a considered artist, and probably nicer human.
As the day draws to a close the Filaments Collective arrive on board. This collective of women will be creating a series of artworks to go on board LV21 during SILTings, part of Estuary Festival.
They haven’t been onboard LV21, and they haven’t met in person for quite a while. The energy shifts – it’s raucous and bold and earthy. I love being in the company of grounded, creative women. I get to see and hear about the different pieces of work that are being created – I don’t want to give anything away – you can follow them on @Filmants on Instagram. It’s a glorious mix of skill and curiosity and connection. So much great work – I can’t wait to come back and experience it, hopefully in person. An online version is also planned in case restrictions mean it’s not safe to have people on board.
I tag along for a ships tour. Discovering this now familiar place afresh through the eyes of the people seeing it for the first time. I’m deliberately lingering – I don’t want to rush away – want to soak in the smell and sounds and sights of this place some more. We return to the Deck and there’s lots of laughing as a series of photos are taken, it’s like a brilliant album cover.
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