Tag: collaboration

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, Exhibitions, Moon

Home and Away

Posted on by KM

Home and Away exhibition is open to the public until the end of this month. It was a great opportunity to collaborate with women who share similar experiences of migration and displacement. The artists came from different countries, including the Philippines, Venezuela, Poland, Croatia, Sudan, and Argentina.

The process felt empowering for all of us, creating space for conversations, shared memories, and reflection. We also spoke about how the exhibition could continue to develop and potentially be shown in other places in the future.

This experience became an important reflection for my MA and good practice before the final show. It also opened doors for future collaborations with both the artists and the venue.

I also received more moon letters, which made me realise that the project has the potential to continue for as long as the letter box remains part of the exhibition. People still feel drawn to writing and sending physical letters, even without expecting a reply. The project reflects a sense of trust and connection between people, which feels especially meaningful today. This experience also encouraged me to think about how the project could keep evolving over time through future collections and publications.

Another important thing I learned was how I can present pages from the book in different formats. The book itself can exist as one form, but larger pieces can also work well and catch the viewer’s attention.

Home and Away is open to the public until the end of this month, and it has already attracted attention from Liverpool’s websites. Promotion was not something I initially wanted to focus on, but one of the fellow artists was very enthusiastic about spreading the word, and she did a great job. It was also a valuable opportunity to observe and learn from other artists, and to recognise how we might use and support each other’s skills in future collaborations.

https://explore-liverpool.com/home-and-away-art-exhibition-at-st-georges-hall/

https://liverpoolcityhalls.co.uk/events/event/home-away-exhibition-one-belonging-place-and-memory/

https://liverpoolnoise.com/arts-and-culture/home-and-away-workshops-exhibition-st-georges-hall/

Posted in 2025-2026, Colonial history, curation, Exhibitions, Reading, Reflection, Research

Coding Spaces and Archipelagic Thinking 

Posted on by KM

Yesterday we had an interesting discussion about coding exhibition spaces and curating. Jonathan shared some texts by Edouard Glissant and his ideas about continental and archipelagic thinking. We discussed global dialogue, where cultures meet and exchange with one another, and how these ideas could be applied within curating. We also questioned the difference between algorithmic and human curating.

My mind felt crowded with thoughts, words clashing against one another. Writing about it helped me untangle those ideas and find the right words..

So,

1- Continental and Archipelagic Thinking

First, I did not know about Edouard Glissant until Jonathan mentioned him. Before writing this, I did some research and discovered that Glissant attended the same school as Fanon during a similar period. I also found that Glissant was influenced by Aimé Césaire, the poet and politician who held important political positions in Martinique and was one of the founders of the Négritude movement.

What I found strange, however, was the name of the capital, Fort-de-France. The name feels heavily colonial and military in origin, and it made me question how much it represents the mixture and complexity of Caribbean identity that Glissant writes about. If Caribbean identity is shaped through creolisation, relation, and cultural mixture, why do many places still carry the language and structures of colonial power?

Returning to Glissant’s theory, it can sound idealistic unless we also discuss unequal power structures. What happens when one culture dominates the exchange? And who is speaking for whom?

I believe archipelagic thinking requires a degree of equality in power, position, and knowledge in order for genuine exchange to happen. People need to feel safe and respected enough to welcome openness, relation, and dialogue.

At times, I feel that Glissant’s ideas emerge from a context where it is easier to imagine archipelagic relationships, islands existing beside one another, sharing histories of colonialism, displacement, and struggle. However, in reality, relationships between places are rarely equal. If one nation or culture has greater resources, political influence, or economic power, it will inevitably shape the exchange more strongly than the other. Examples such as the UK and Ireland or Indonesia and the Philippines show how unequal power can influence cultural dialogue.

Because of this, I believe there is a responsibility not only to be welcoming and open, but also to avoid placing ourselves in vulnerable positions through a lack of knowledge, experience, or access. On a larger scale, this relates to power, science, dignity, and human rights. Without awareness, exchange can easily become influence or control by those who already hold authority.

How can this be applied to curating? For me, curating should involve both knowledge and empowerment. The curator should develop enough understanding and experience to support the work responsibly, while also empowering artists and contributors so that exchange becomes mutual rather than hierarchical. True dialogue cannot happen when one side only gives and the other only receives.

2- Algorithms and Human Curating

When thinking about algorithms and human curating, I believe that even AI is ultimately shaped by humans. Algorithms are built from data that is created, selected, and controlled by people, often within commercial or business systems. Because of this, algorithms tend to respond to behaviour patterns and visual preferences rather than deeper emotional or ethical understanding.

Algorithms are designed to please, predict, and reinforce engagement. They often agree with existing behaviours rather than challenge them, unless introducing something new becomes commercially useful. They cannot fully understand emotional complexity, vulnerability, or the human condition in a particular moment.

Human curators, however, allow space for emotion, ethics, care, and mistakes. Whether curating an exhibition, a book, a workshop, or a conversation, human curation carries sensitivity toward people and context. At the same time, curating also reflects the organisers themselves, their intentions, politics, feelings, and what they want to communicate through the work.

Curators are often the first audience to encounter an artwork, and that first encounter is important for both the artist and the curator. Curatorial work therefore carries significant responsibility. However, I believe curating should happen alongside the artist and the artwork, not over them. Also, it’s important to first experience the artwork on its own terms before being influenced by the artist’s explanation, while still maintaining a respectful and collaborative relationship.

Reflecting on all of this takes me back through the journey of the last two years, curating spaces, books, workshops, and even this blog. Technology has an important role in making processes easier, but humans still carry the responsibility of shaping narratives and telling stories.

Finally, archipelagic thinking may be an attempt to create ethical relations despite unequal histories and structures. And, from a curatorial perspective, curators must consider the needs of the artwork, including care, health and safety, protection, and the conditions the work requires within a space. Exchange between curator and artist is essential, because curators cannot exist without artists and contributors!

Posted in 2025-2026, Books, collaboration, Exhibitions, Moon, Reading, Tutorials 2025-26, Writing

1-1 Tutorial 22nd April

Posted on by KM

Last week I had my final 1–1 tutorial, and it was a very valuable conversation in which I was able to reflect on my work and plan for the coming months, thinking about challenges and what matters most right now. Having this discussion at this stage feels important, because I believe I need Jonathan’s insight and guidance while I’m still in the process of making.

The tutorial gave me a great deal of confidence, and the next day I began designing the bone-dry tea set. I made 21 pieces for the tea set, alongside over 20 small crescent forms, which I will use to make bookmarks for our MA Digital class. Each ceramic piece carrying a story from colonial history. I find that I can’t add anything to the work unless I’m sure it’s relevant and contributes to the overall narrative, and this does slow me down slightly. However, this has been one of the most important lessons during my MA: taking the time to build a cohesive body of work, without unnecessary additions or distractions. I can easily feel overwhelmed and distracted but I have learned to recognise that moment. When it happens, I stop adding and instead spend time reading around the theme or taking a break. This is how my ceramics project develops through slow reading, while the Moon Book has developed through slow writing.

I spent the week working with clay, while also setting up the new show at Liverpool St George’s Hall, where I will be showing Moon Book pages on silk (factory print). I made these last year for The Right Map 2025 but did not have the right opportunity to present them. Now they feel more suited to the theme (Home and Away) and to the space at St George’s Hall. I installed them over a long black heater, where the warm air creates a gentle movement in the work, subtly animating the delicate sheets.

At the core of my social sculpture practice is care and the intention to make a meaningful difference. The Moon Book demonstrates this clearly by connecting people and creating space for shared vulnerability. After the last workshop, some participants began sending me letters in response to others letters. I feel a deep sense of gratitude towards this project and the people involved. Writing letters feels especially meaningful, and I’m  excited about the next book Dear Friend (2027). What I find particularly beautiful is that some children are growing up through this process, and some participants who have never met are writing to each other with genuine care and intimacy. It shows how powerful and delicate these connections are. I feel I owe a great deal to everyone who has taken part.

The tea set also functions as a form of social sculpture. It consists of multiple pieces that invite interaction, through storytelling, through history, and through use. Sharing stories from the past is itself a way of engaging with people who are no longer here. In this sense, the work becomes a way to educate, to encourage questions, and to create opportunities for participation.

For example, discussing the Opium War  came up in my tutorial with Jonathan. We began asking: how many “opium wars” exist today? How many forms of addiction are being created, and how will these stories be told in the future? Simply bringing these questions to the table is part of the work. It opens up dialogue and that is where social sculpture begins to happen.

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Project, Social Sculpture

Iftar as Social Sculpture

Posted on by KM

Last year I was invited to organise a community iftar a few months after the Southport attack and the rise of far right protests. I accepted immediately, but I kept the first event simple. It felt important to move carefully. After it went well, we decided to make it a regular gathering that people in the community could expect and look forward to.

This year the project developed in three connected parts. The first was a shared reading session on the second day of Ramadan ( check previous post). The second was an anti racism cooking workshop. The third was a collective iftar meal at the library where around forty people gathered to break the fast together.

For the cooking session I invited an Iranian chef to lead a workshop where we prepared a vegetable curry. Participants from the Kitchen Library, mostly local English speaking volunteers, joined colleagues and other volunteers. People cooked together, shared food, and stayed to talk before leaving. Later that day I prepared small blessing cards for the following evening.

The next day my colleague Niamh, artist and producer for the Kitchen Library, and I went shopping for ingredients and refreshments. Back at the library we started preparing the meal. Niamh made stuffed dates for dessert. I cooked a vegan curry and bulgur while Greg and Joe helped with preparation and logistics. At the same time we rearranged the library space so it felt less like an institutional environment and more like a shared domestic space.

By the time the guests arrived everything was ready. Before breaking the fast I welcomed everyone and spoke briefly about Ramadan. I also shared this small story:

Recently I called my sister to ask how the first day of Ramadan had gone. She told me that her youngest daughter 4 yrs old  saw the dinner table prepared and suddenly asked “Where is he?” They asked, “Who?”.. She replied, “Ramadan! Everything is ready.. Why hasn’t he arrived?” 

For my niece, Ramadan was not an abstract period of time..it was a guest expected at the table!

In many ways this reflects how the month is often experienced. People prepare for it, welcome it, and look forward to its arrival. In Arabic we say Ahlan Ramadan. The phrase comes from Ahlan wa sahlan ( أهلا وسهلاً) which has been used to welcome guests in Arabic culture for centuries.

It is often translated as “welcome”, but the meaning is deeper. Ahlan comes from ahl (أهل) meaning family. It suggests that the guest is not a stranger but someone among their own people. Sahlan comes from (سهل)sahl, meaning ease or smooth ground. It suggests that the path between host and guest should be easy and open. Together the phrase expresses a form of hospitality that goes beyond politeness. It means you belong here and this space is open to you. Another common greeting is (مرحبا)marhaban. The word comes from (رحب) rahb, meaning wide or spacious. It also suggests openness and generosity. After sharing this, I invited people to say “welcome” in their own languages. We heard it in Chinese, Dari, Farsi, Urdu, German, Norwegian, and Portuguese. This small moment helped set the tone for the evening.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar, and fasting during this month is one of the five pillars of Islam. From before sunrise until sunset, Muslims do not eat or drink.. They also avoid smoking and intimacy. Not everyone fasts, children, people who are ill, elderly people, pregnant or breastfeeding women, women during menstruation, and travellers are exempt.

The fast is usually broken with dates and water. After a long day without food or drink the body returns to eating slowly. But fasting is not only about the body. It is also about awareness. It interrupts habits of consumption and invites reflection about what we need and what shapes our desires. Hunger changes how we feel and how we see the world. It makes the body more present, but it also reminds us of people who live with food insecurity every day. For a moment the difference between abundance and scarcity becomes more visible.. This can open space for empathy!

The project worked with the fragile conditions through which community is formed. Cooking, waiting, and breaking the fast together created a pause in everyday life. For a short time the library changed from an institutional space into a shared domestic space shaped by the people who were there. The iftar was not only an event. It became a temporary social form created through shared work, food, and conversation. Even small acts of welcome can change how a public space feels, even if only for a short time.

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, Project, Reading, Social Sculpture, Writing

March Shared Reading

Posted on by KM

We recently started a new group in my programme called International Shared Reading, with the support of The Reader. Instead of taking the training myself, I recommended two women from my group an assistant from Afghanistan and a volunteer from Portugal to take the paid training and co-lead the sessions alongside my co-producer, while I support them where needed. I believe that our strength comes from building a strong team rather than individual effort.

As part of the preparations for our upcoming Iftar gathering, I led a special reading session. It created a space to ask questions and learn more about Ramadan. We read a poem together, spoke about prayer, and people asked many questions about fasting and other related topics. Questions are welcome, they help clarify misunderstandings. When I went home that evening, I kept thinking about our conversation. Later, a volunteer sent a beautiful message in our group chat thanking me for the session.

The next day I decided to create small blessing or affirmation cards for our guests, inspired by the poem we read together. I Hope You Make It, a poem by Maxine Meixner, is written in a simple and beautiful way. The words can reach people without challenging them with difficult language. I spent the day writing my simple prayers and preparing the cards so I could finish them at the library the next day.

The cards are simple and decorated with flowers. I chose lavender because it has a gentle, calming scent. In a way, the cards became a small social sculpture, something guests could take with them, carrying the memory of the Iftar after they leave.

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Experiments, Motivations, Research, Social Sculpture, Visit

Free Workshops

Posted on by KM

Last Sunday, I spent a rewarding day with Ghost Art School and creatives from October Salon (a new collective in Preston led byHannah Browne). My aim was to organise a free workshops day, focused on sharing knowledge and skills without the need for materials or money. I offered an introductory session in British Sign Language (BSL), while Liverpool-based artists Tom Kelly and Tom Doubtfire generously shared aspects of their practices. Hannah provided the space in Preston, making the event possible through collaboration rather than institutional support.

The day had several clear intentions. Firstly, I wanted to gather with peers and begin the year in a meaningful, collaborative way, learning together and exchanging knowledge. Secondly, the event allowed us to engage with October Salon, an emerging creative group, and to demonstrate what can happen through collective artistic practice.

The programme began with Tom Doubtfire leading a discussion on the role of the artist and the relationship between art and activism. His reflections centred on disturbance, sustainability, sacrifice, and focus. The group discussed what it means for art to be disturbing, what sustainable practice might look like, how much we are willing to sacrifice and the importance of setting limits, also how to remain focused on our aims.

This was followed by my one-hour introduction to BSL. My motivation for teaching BSL stems from both personal conviction and historical awareness. The language was banned in the United Kingdom between 1880 and 1970, and despite its cultural and social importance, it still receives limited funding in education. BSL was officially recognised as a language in 2003 and granted legal status in 2022, yet it is still not included in the GCSE curriculum. In this context, teaching BSL freely can be understood as a quiet form of activism! Challenging ableism, questioning unequal access to culture, and sharing knowledge rather than gatekeeping it.

BSL is also highly visual and expressive, connecting strongly with creative disciplines. It can influence performance, filmmaking, choreography, and storytelling, functioning not only as a language but also as an artistic medium. More broadly, offering knowledge without payment can be seen as a response to the increasing commercialisation of the arts. It reminds us that generosity and collective growth still hold value.

The day concluded with a workshop led by Tom Kelly, which provided a joyful ending. His approach to clowning demonstrated that it’s not simply about being silly, but about exploring human emotions through humour and vulnerability. Through simple games and spontaneous interaction, the group communicated naturally, without preparation. There was a strong sense of care, kindness, and mutual respect among participants.

The structure of the day loosely echoed Joseph Beuys’ idea of the Free International University, an artist-led model of education independent from institutions and grounded in dialogue and shared learning. By offering knowledge freely and prioritising exchange over production, the gathering became less about outcomes and more about shaping a temporary community through participation.

For me, the impact of this day was more meaningful than any individual artwork I’ve made recently. It highlighted the importance of shared time, laughter, and informal learning within creative communities. It felt like an encouraging and significant beginning for the group, grounded in connection rather than productivity alone

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Project, Research, Social Sculpture

Wedding At The Library

Posted on by KM
12/12/2025

This month I co produced a Sudanese wedding ceremony at the library. The work used a familiar civic space to hold a cultural practice that is usually private, celebratory and communal, placing it in dialogue with public life. While the process was challenging, it opened the library as a site of encounter rather than quiet consumption, attracting visitors who came not only to observe but to learn and witness together.

The project emerged from my fortnightly creative sessions at the library, which I facilitate with a group of participants to support newly arrived women and children to connect, settle in Bootle, make friendships and practise English through informal and collective activity. These sessions operate as a slow infrastructure of care rather than a fixed outcome. The wedding ceremony was not pre planned by me, but proposed by the Sudanese women themselves, who expressed a strong desire to share their wedding traditions.

My favourite clip shows a library visitor dancing at the back with a child

At a time when Sudan is experiencing profound political and humanitarian crisis, my role was not to represent suffering but to create conditions for self representation. Social sculpture, in this context, becomes an ethical practice of listening, redistribution of authorship and trust. Two women developed the idea of the ceremony, another joined to perform the pride ritual wearing traditional jewellery and clothing, while a Sudanese musician volunteered to provide live music. A young filmmaker offered to document the event, and participants brought desserts to share with guests. Each contribution shifted the work further away from individual authorship and towards collective agency.

The material and practical elements of the event were equally collaborative. My colleagues from the Kitchen Library, Niamh and Greg, cooked a Sudanese ful recipe alongside one of our Sudanese participant and other regular volunteers. In an earlier session, we made tealight candle holders specifically for the ceremony. A young native English speaker asked to help, so I invited her to lead a simple workshop using air dry clay. This gesture disrupted assumed roles of helper and helped, positioning participation as reciprocal rather than charitable.

The work required shared energy and care, particularly during a period when I was navigating significant personal challenges. It would not have been possible without collective support, especially from artist Joe Goff, who co produced the programme with me. Social sculpture here is not symbolic but logistical, emotional and temporal, shaped by availability, exhaustion and trust. It asks not what is produced, but how people are held, and what it means to be human here and elsewhere.

The audience reflected a wide range of cultural backgrounds, with many people wearing traditional dress. What continues to surprise me is that white, native visitors often attend these gatherings in greater numbers than people from the global majority. Their presence is marked by curiosity and attentiveness, contradicting dominant narratives that frame cultural difference as a threat. The work quietly resists fear by offering proximity, time and shared experience rather than explanation.

This approach connects to last year Iranian celebration I produced at the library during a period of heightened political tension. Food prepared by an Iranian participant and an Iranian chef, including vegan rice and saffron pudding, was shared alongside music. Ceramic coasters I had made and later decorated by women and children were placed on the tables, functioning as both objects and traces of process. 

The music and dancing marked the most memorable moment at the end of the event. The shared rhythms of Iranian, Kurdish and Afghan cultures brought people together to dance, filling the space as others looked on with quiet admiration.

Visitors, including people from the Afghan Refugee Centre and staff from Sefton Council, expressed gratitude for the experience, not as an act of hospitality delivered to them, but as a moment of living!Within my MA research, these projects operate as social sculptures that prioritise relational labour, slowness and care. They resist spectacle and instead test how public institutions can temporarily become spaces where people are not spoken about, but speak, host and shape meaning themselves.

12/12/2024
Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, Motivations, Reflection, Research, Uncategorized, Writing

Feedback!

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What can I say… this experience has reminded me why I love working collectively and why it is so important not to rely on a single resource or only on self-knowledge.

Giving feedback as a group is such a powerful idea and such a beautiful way to enrich one another’s reflection on our practice. I genuinely loved sharing my thoughts with each of my peers and reading theirs in return. The work is amazing, it expresses human experience in such diverse ways, full of richness, honesty and genuine emotion. I felt truly honoured to be among them and lucky to witness their progress over time.

It was emotional to reflect on how we are growing together, holding each other’s hands virtually on this journey with such care and generosity. It reminded me of Jonathan’s first session in October 2024, when he spoke about kindness and compassion and how these could become the strength of our collective and our cohort. Throughout the course, he has guided us with constant care and kindness, so it is no surprise that he created this opportunity: for each of us to write short feedback for one another on a shared Miro board dedicated to every artist.

My peers’ feedback has genuinely boosted my confidence and trust in my practice. Of course, there are always things missing, intentionally or not, due to circumstances and the challenges of process. But receiving feedback that recognises your efforts is deeply energising, especially as a socially engaged artist, where the social aspect is the heart of the work.

I will definitely return to this Miro board whenever I need to. It has become a beautiful space, full of thoughts floating in this quiet corner of cyberspace.

Posted in 2025-2026, curation, Exhibitions, Experiments, Project, Reflection, Research, Social Sculpture

Last Reflection on The Right Map

Posted on by KM

As I write this final reflection on The Right Map, I can see how many threads hold this project together. There is the community garden that Tom Doubtfire leads with steady optimism. There is the fundraiser that Tom and I organised as members of Ghost Art School, with generous support in kind from The Bakery in Liverpool. And there is the final day itself, which happened only because of the effort and kindness shown by Rory Macbeth, there was no funding and no safety net, there were only people who care and people who give far more than anyone could fairly expect.

The Community Garden

The garden at the old social club-Kensington was meant to be a shared space, a place for people to grow food, spend time, and reclaim something green together. We cleaned it again and again. We cleared rubbish, made plans and planted possibilities… Yet there were days when I felt defeated. Rubbish would reappear as soon as we removed it.. Things were stolen! Many times it felt as if the effort was swallowed by indifference!

But Tom is different.. He keeps turning up with a sense of commitment that is both hopeful and stubborn. He holds a belief in slow change that I respect deeply and I’ll continue to support him, not only as a friend but as an artist I respect.

Fundraising as a Collective Gesture

The fundraiser at The Bakery was a small moment when collective energy came together. With the help of visitors, friends, and many acts of generosity, we raised £300 for Thamara Organisation.

The rooms held an installation by Tom D, inspired by the community garden. There were drawings made by children in previous workshops Tom led. There were my political ceramics. There was a tiny painting by Tom Kelly, fixed to a huge blob of blue tack. There were paintings prints by Alison Reid.

And from food sales and prints and T shirts that I printed, some showing the map of Palestine and others carrying the Ghost Art School logo designed by Rory Macbeth, along with extra donations, the amount slowly gathered. It felt modest, but it carried meaning. It was a gesture of care that reflected the spirit of The Right Map.

The Final Day: Unstable 4 

The final day of The Right Map was full of beautiful chaos.. I was working in other side at Crosby Library until the afternoon for a Liverpool Biennial event with the collective DARCH, so I arrived with no time to prepare anything special. Once again it was Rory who brought the day to a close and who held everything together with calmness and capability. I will not forget the amazing large carousel installation by Marie-Sofie Braune, who is now doing an MFA at CSM. It arrived from Germany and was too large to ship at a reasonable cost, so Rory travelled to deliver it and installed it.

As Rory described it, the event became:“Unstable 4. The final event of Unstable at Port Sunlight fully embraced instability. A broken fever dream of a fairground carousel, a car trying to get into the gallery while playing dislocated tape loops, surplus images spat out of a machine, surplus films looping, noise performed, letters to the moon, records playing off centre, photographic sculptures hiding in half light, one to one performances in a tent.”

Somehow all of this disorder made sense. It was the right ending to a project that was never about polish but about presence. It showed what happens when artists, friends, and communities choose to take action even when resources are limited, even when schedules do not match, and even when the project is held together by human effort rather than funding.

Finally, The Right Map did not map places. It mapped relationships, labour, generosity, frustration, and persistence. It mapped the hidden work that supports community spaces and the unstability that becomes a creative method rather than a barrier.

The Right Map artists: Alison Reid, Alma Stritt, Charli Kleeman, Chelsea Johnson, Chris Roberts, Colm Moore, Conner Browne, Cos Ahmet, Danielle Freakley, David W Hicks, Eleanor Capstick, Finn Roberts, Gary Finnegan, Gwendolin Kircali, Halyna Maystrenko-Grant, Hannah Browne, Harriet Morley, Igor Prato Luna, Jasmir Creed, Jessica Crowe, Karema Munassar, Lily Patricija, Mai Sanchez, Marie-Sofie Braune, Molly Lindsay, Molly Mousdell, Phoebe Thomas, Priya Foster, Ritu Arya, Rory Macbeth, Sonic Relics, Theodora Koumbouzis, Tom Doubtfire, Tom Kelly, Valentina Passerini, and Xueying Zhang 

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Project, Reflection, Social Sculpture

Tablecloth for a Feast at the Library

Posted on by KM

In the summer, I coated large pieces of fabric (a single bed sheet) with a light sensitive solution and left them to dry in a dark room. After a few days, I invited participants from a group of women and children to a cyanotype workshop. We used plants and flowers collected during the library’s foraging sessions led by Kitchen Library artists George Herbert and Niamh Riordan, and artist in residence Hannah Fincham, linking our work directly to the local environment.

When the fabric was laid out under the sun, the women and children carefully arranged the plants, holding them down with stones and found objects. Leaves, stems and other gathered items became areas of negative space, and the sunlight painted around them. After rinsing the fabric in water, deep blues emerged, revealing the delicate silhouettes of each plant. For many in the group, particularly those who had recently arrived in the UK, this process offered something simple and grounding. Cyanotype is slow and gentle. It does not require previous artistic training or a shared language… The sun does most of the work!

In a second workshop, we returned to the dried and cured cyanotype cloth, now covered with ghostly plant impressions. The women and volunteers stitched messages into the fabric, simple words that carried enormous emotional weight such as Love, Welcome, Root, We Are Here, along with others that expressed hope and belonging. These stitched messages felt like offerings, small acts of care placed directly into the surface of a communal object that would later host a shared meal. For many of the refugee participants, displacement, uncertainty and cultural disconnection are part of daily life. Embroidery, however, is familiar across so many cultures. Hands know how to hold fabric, how to push a needle through, how to make a mark that lasts.

Finally, last week on Friday night we had a feast in Bootle Library. The tablecloth ran along the length of one of the tables reserved for my group. It carried the plants of Sefton, the light of our summer workshops, and the stitched words of women and children who are rebuilding their lives. Seeing it in place, surrounded by food, conversation and the warm buzz of At the Library’s artists and team, was profoundly moving. I wanted to reflect on it because it is so connected to my social sculpture research and my own practice. I felt it reflected much of what we do at the library and echoed what Jonathan taught us last week about Contact Zones. The library is, for me, the clearest physical Contact Zone.

Working alongside colleagues, each contributing their own talent and care, reminded me how these projects are held in harmony by many hands. The feast was not about showcasing artwork, it was about celebrating community, connection and the slow work of building trust through creativity. The feast project by the Kitchen Library feels to me like a multilayered social sculpture. It unfolded across different times, places and relationships. Each layer held a different group of people including colleagues, refugee women, children and artists in residence, and each contributed something unique such as their labour, their stories, their presence and their materials.

The tablecloth project deepened my understanding of social sculpture and care through art. More importantly, in a time when many communities are fractured, the involvement of refugee women and children revealed how creativity can bring us together, even if only for a moment. The tablecloth is only one visible layer. Beneath it lies the invisible sculpture of conversations, gestures, learning, trust building, cultural exchange and the shared act of preparing for a communal feast. All of these intangible elements shaped the social form just as much as the physical cloth.